Salazar's Encore
by Do Re Mi 123
Summary: After a turbulent fourth year of scandalous revelations, Corvus Black returns to Hogwarts. What he doesn't know yet, the real crazyness hasn't even begun yet. Set in GoF-HBP, pls R&R! Just uploaded my longest chapter ever, eeekkk
1. A Sirius Summer

**_Disclaimer:_** I do not own the Harry Potter franchise, I only own the Salesmen, Leandra Black and a few other OC's you'll be reacquainted with shortly.

**_Summary:_** In Hogwarts, written on the boy's bathroom wall on the sixth floor was an irremovable piece of graffiti. It appeared in the spring of 1991 and its black, spidery letters won't ever fade. It's message:_ We are Salazar's Salesmen. We will cater to your every need. No matter how unseemly they may be. But all for a fee. _Welcome to the underbelly of Hogwarts, where the Salesmen are untouchable, or so they think.

_**A/N:**_ Finally! This is a sequel to **Salazar's Salesmen**, but I'll be writing this as best as I can so new readers will be able to enjoy it. Hopefully I'll be seeing or hearing back from people who followed the first Salesmen story. This fic will take place between GoF and HBP, it will center on the Salesmen and one Salesmen in particular. Canon characters from Slytherin will be huge players. Hmmm that's all I can think about saying at this time... please R&R and enjoy!

* * *

**A Sirius Summer**

Once upon a time, there was a Death Eater named Ascanius Stirling, who had a talent for cold-blooded murder, especially of his own family. He belonged to the Stirling family, a family that once was one of Britain's most prestigious pureblood families. They migrated to England in the 1700's with nothing to their name except for their purity of blood and their talent at being crafters.

Crafters are described in layman terms as magical architects. Magical buildings were complex structures, dangerous because of their unpredictable nature. An empty hallway could devour its creator if it felt it wasn't beautiful enough. If a house becomes bored with its fashion it can rearrange itself. In the wizarding world, if you say a house or building has 'personality' you mean it literally. A crafter knows how to control magical constructs, and battle their personalities if they need to.

The Stirling family had the reputation of training and employing the best crafters. Ascanius had much pride in his lineage until the day he discovered a horrifying secret kept by his parents. His mother was Muggle-born. It was an outrage, and it inspired him to ensure the cleansing of his family.

He sat in an iron-barred cage in Nurmengard. Somewhere high above him Gellert Grindelwald was locked away, in his own prison. But Ascanius was kept below the earth, in the basement dungeons. His iron cage was lowered into a fifteen feet deep dugout. Only twice in his fourteen years imprisoned had he seen the light of day.

Ascanius was once handsome, now he was tall, gaunt with dark hair that was long and dirty. A fight had left his nose broken. His once angular and strong jaw was also broken, shattered long ago, it hung crooked and every time he clenched his mouth it went _click. _

_Click. Click. _

He stared at his left forearm. The Dark Mark, the symbol of his Dark Lord, was prickling. It used to be only a tingle.

_Click. _

There was something rustling above in his cell room. His forearm felt a sharp pinch. Ascanius stood up, looked up eagerly and peering down into his cage from the edge of the dugout was a rat.

_Click. Click. _

It wasrat with a paw missing a toe.

**XXX**

_I_, _**E. Murray**__**,**__hereby swear under threat of immense bodily pain, never to reveal the conditions or proceedings of my _23 May 1992_ transaction with Salazar's Salesmen (Salesmen).  
I will not speak of this transaction with anybody, human or beast, not my friends, family, acquaintances or medical advisor. When interrogated by an authority figure of any kind, I will not  
say any name or describe any characteristics that could lead to the exposure of the Salesmen. I will not state any locations relevant to my experience with the Salesmen.  
If I am caught with my order of _1/3 litre of Scintillation Solution_ at the price of _15 Galleons,_ I will accept the consequences alone. If I try to breach this contract, I will be physically  
interrupted by magical interference for every attempt. In return the Salesmen will maintain an equal level of confidentiality. These terms extend to 1st June 2017. _

_ X… __**Eddie Murray**__…..__House: _Hufflepuff… _Date: _23-5-92…

**XXX**

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry is a place for learning, growth and – if you're smart enough – power. While many might be suspicious of a statement like that, I ask that you maintain an open mind. At times, normal people don't even _realize_ who has the power. Power can be subtle. Power can be blunt. Power can be good. Power can be bad. It depends who wields it.

But there is power at Hogwarts to have.

And by the early spring of 1991 a group of first-year boys had discovered their power.

"Coast is clear," a boy with stringy dirty-blonde hair, whispered to his mates. He'd peered over the corner into the next hallway. They were on the sixth floor, heading for the boys' bathroom. There were four of them – all were in Slytherin.

"Can't believe we convinced Pretzel to run through the Great Hall wearing nothing but he's underwear," snickered one of his friends. This boy had feathery, light blonde hair and brilliant blue eyes. Though he was eleven years old, you could tell he was going to grow up very handsomely. Rightly so too, his great-grandmother had been a Veela.

"I believe it, he's an idiot," replied a short, stocky boy with black hair that stood up as if electrified.

"Once he's got Filch and his raggedy cat after him, he's suppose to head for the Forbidden Forest," said a boy with dark, wavy hair. He took out an expensive looking, silver pocket watch. He grinned, "If he's managed that, we've got loads of time."

"Reckon Mrs. Norris will get her claws on him first?" the light-blonde boy asked. "With nothing but knickers, he won't have much protection."

His friends stifled their laughter. The boy with dirty blonde hair opened the door to the boys' bathroom. They walked to the back, to stand before a blank wall. The boy with the silver watch took out his wand, twirling it between the fingers of his left hand.

"Any of you know about the Sistine Chapel?" he asked his friends. They all frowned, confused, except for the boy with the dirty blonde hair.

He chuckled. "Easy Blackstone, we're not after that effect."

"It just came to mind," grinned Blackstone. He raised his wand, murmured a spell and began to write on the wall with large, black, spidery letters…

_**We are Salazar's Salesmen**_

_**We will cater to your every need. No matter how unseemly they may be. But all for a fee. **_

While the Weasley twins were a force of light-hearted anarchy in Hogwarts, Salazar's Salesmen made up a highly ambitious criminal group. They ran the unofficial underworld of Hogwarts. They smuggled contraband into the school and sold it to desperate students. When they started off in November 1990 only those in Slytherin knew about their services. But now, the Salesmen had everything for everybody's dark desires. They could get you an assortment of potions, low-level cursed objects, Dungbombs, Firewhiskey, they even had your class papers written for you…

If you wanted their service, you sent an owl to Sal's Guys. The Salesmen will then contact you with an order sheet and contracts for you to sign. They always sent two contracts. One was for payment and the other was for an oath of silence. If you failed to sign either, they refused your business.

Officially, their identities were secret. They covered their tracks meticulously. Officially, you didn't know who they were. Unofficially, you knew and they knew you knew.

**XXX**

_Student__: Corvus Dante Blackstone, Slytherin…. 1 September 1990_

_Incident__: Found in the Trophy Hall, caught in ruckus with G. Curtis. Suspect they were dueling.  
Blackstone looked untouched, sent Curtis to nurse's – injury due to Stinging Hex. _

_Punishment__: He will weed the pumpkin patch, no magic. Place Blackstone under  
surveillance, future troublemaker._

_Authorized by__: A. Filch_

**XXX**

"What are you doing?"

"Hey Corvus. Do you know if we have flour?"

Corvus's lip curled, he set down his piece of charcoal. He was fifteen years old now; trying to enjoy what was left of his summer vacation. He was staying at a small summerhouse hidden high up on the slope of Cordillera de Talamanca in Costa Rica. On this vacation with him were his mother, weird House-elf and two escaped felons.

Corvus was speaking to one of these felons at the moment, in the kitchen. "Why?"

"It's almost Harry's birthday, you know," Sirius Black explained as he made a racket moving through the pots and pans. Corvus glared at him. "And those Muggles he lives with are forcing some diet on him because his cousin is the size of –"

"A baby whale. I know," snapped Corvus. "You've told me everything there is to know about Potter's current life. Thank you."

Sirius turned to look at him. Corvus had been drawing in his sketchbook at the kitchen table. All summer had been like this. But Sirius still tried. "Well, your mum and I thought we'd surprise him with a birthday cake," he said brightly.

Corvus scoffed, "Okay."

"I guess I'll wait for your mum to get back," he sighed, putting down the pan. Sirius no longer had that matted, long hair. Corvus's mother had cut it for him the first night they met up with him after parting ways when Sirius escaped Hogwarts. He was still incredibly skinny. The few times Sirius dared to visit the beach with Corvus and his mother in human form, Corvus found it awkward to see him shirtless. You could see every bone prodding out of him. And he was strikingly pale. Now he had more meat on his bones, but Corvus doubted he'd ever look healthy again.

Sirius sat down at the table with Corvus, who pretended to ignore him. A long pause past, then…

"Your mother was always drawing too, when she was your age," Sirius told him. Corvus's grey eyes glanced up, it was whenever they got on the subject of his mother's past that Corvus got a little apprehensive. "Do you draw people's portraits too? She did."

"No, not really," he replied. Putting his charcoal down again, he flipped through the pages. They were mostly landscapes and still lives. "I know she drew a lot of portraits… I saw a few of her old books."

"It wasn't like she drew a lot of _different _portraits," he said. "She just drew a couple peoples'."

"Yeah, I've seen," repeated Corvus. "She drew my grandparents from her side a lot, when they were alive."

"She drew _Regulus_ a lot," he corrected. Corvus frowned. Sirius tended to get weird whenever he tried to casually bring up the past. "I remember when she let me have a look at her sketchbook, I couldn't get over how many pictures there were of him."

"They weren't ever done," he said quietly.

"Right, she said she could never get his eyes right… you're supposed to have his eyes."

Corvus heard this before. His mother always told him that. His eyes were grey with specks of green, like his father's.

"Hell if I know though," his uncle remarked abruptly. "Never cared to notice Regulus's eyes. By the time I was twelve I couldn't stand looking at anyone in my family for longer than ten seconds. I'd much rather their eyes popped out of their skulls than study them. But your mum know Reg's eyes like the back of her hand… _apparently_."

Corvus's law clenched. _Merlin… what I would do to hit him with a Stinging Hex…_

A welcomed distraction came. There was a loud screech from the kitchen window. On the windowsill outside was a large peregrine falcon with a dark copper-barred underside. All bitterness disappeared in Sirius's demeanor. He smiled, got up and opened the window for the bird.

Nothing relieved Corvus more than seeing this bird fly into the small summerhouse and morph back into his mother, Leandra Black.

**XXX**

_Student:__ Maxwell Andrew Love, Slytherin…. 4 December 1990_

_Incident:__ R. Davis found in girl's bathroom on second floor, duct taped to toilet. Face severely __disfigured by a Furnunculus Jinx.  
Entire floor flooded. Davis named Love as claimed self-defense. No witnesses. Don't trust Love._

_Punishment:__ He will wash entire girl's bathroom. No magic._

_Authorized by:__ A. Filch_

**XXX**

Leandra was wearing a pale yellow dress and sandals. Her dark copper hair was down in billowy, thick curls and she wasn't wearing her glasses that day. Last year his mother looked completely different. She'd only wear black, her hair was dyed black as well and it was always kept straight. The changes in her appearance started when Sirius broke out of Azkaban.

In her arms she held a stake of papers. Sirius immediately took them from her and his face leaned in close to hers. Corvus's eyes went wide, alarmed. Leandra looked shocked too, but Sirius stopped himself, like he reminded a kiss wasn't appropriate… not in front of Corvus.

"Huh, hi," he grumbled instead and walked away with the papers, setting them on the kitchen table and avoiding eye contact with his nephew. Leandra nervously pushed back her hair.

"Hello Corvy," she smiled at her son. "Still no sign of your Hogwarts letter."

"I don't care."

"Come on! It's your fifth year now. Your OWLs are coming. I was very excited to get my letter my fifth year. Just reading the booklist got me excited for every – oh stop it!"

Sirius was sniggering at her. She lightly slapped his arm.

"Trust me," she continued, "at this level you'll finally get a glimpse at _real _magic."

"Yeah, I'm sure Binn's class is going to turn into a real rollercoaster this year, Corvus," nodded Sirius. Before he could stop himself, Corvus chuckled.

"You're hilarious," she glared at Sirius, but her mean look quickly melted. They held each other's stare for a brief moment. This happened a lot over the summer.

"How was visiting the Tower?" he had to interrupt them some how. Leandra turned her attention back at him.

"Actually, quite exciting," she grinned. Corvus's mother was the Madame Crafter of the Stirling Tower. She'd inherited from her uncle Eros Stirling after his suspicious suicide in '79. She was one of the few survivors of the Stirling Massacre, courtesy of her brother Ascanius. "Stirling Tower's got two new projects lined up. Lucius Malfoy's just donated a load of coins to St. Mungo's. The hospital wants us to revamp their exterior now?"

"Really? I always thought their cover-up was pretty good," Sirius commented as he went about the kitchen gathering ingredients again. "Do we have flour?"

Leandra took out her wand. "Honestly, Sirius… _Accio Flour." _

A bag of flour flew out of a cabinet. Leandra handed it to Sirius, and Corvus smirked at his mother's easy cleverness.

"What is St. Mungo's cover up?" he asked her.

"Oh you have to step through a window of a crumbling department store called Purge and Dowse, Ltd.," she replied, bored. "The problem is that it's in London and they've had an increasing number of homeless Muggles stumbling upon their location. They'll just need a few more Muggle repellents… Though I think maybe we should board up the window, have wizards tap their wands on it… no, that wouldn't do, what if the poor bloke doesn't have hands to use a wand?"

"Is that all they want?" said Corvus.

"No, they need the foundations of the second floor redone. That's the floor where they care for illnesses brought on by magical bugs and diseases. Apparently one of their patients went crazy, tried to hide inside the walls and died there, so his body's fumes is giving off the virus that was in him. It's seeping into - "

"Okay! I think Corvus and I can take it from there, Lee, thank you," Sirius interrupted. Leandra laughed.

"Sorry, I forgot what a weak stomach you've got," she said slyly. "Anyway, I think I'll put Kevin Richardson on this one. He's been showing real talent, it's about time I see how he handles a team under him."

"Why don't you take it, mum?"

She shrugged. "I've done stuff at St. Mungo's before. And this is going to be a small project. Besides, I haven't told you about the _second _project! Ludo Bagman, the Head of the Department for Magical Games and Sports, was so taken with how well the Tower did the grand stadiums for the Quidditch World Championsh - "

_CRACK_

**XXX**

_Student:__ Louis Roger Vaisey, Slytherin… 23 October 1991_

_Incident:__ Vaisey was caught setting aflame the Hufflepuff's brooms during their practice. C. Diggory turned him in to Hooch.  
She turned him in over to me for more punishment._

_Punishment:__ Three months detention and Hooch has banned him from an entire season of Quidditch.  
Keep eye on Vaisey, may be able to get him expelled._

_Authorized by__: A. Filch and R. Hooch_

**XXX**

Everyone flinched as Coco, the former House-elf to the Stirling family appeared out of thin air. She was at Leandra's side, holding a portable radio in her tiny hands, tuned in to the Wizarding Wireless Network. Coco was an interesting House-elf. His mother freed her thirteen years ago, but she still insisted on serving Leandra and Corvus. But now she was allowed to wear clothes, and she _only_ wore Quidditch stuff. For example, in honor of that day's match, she had an England jersey on with a Transylvania jumper tied around her waist.

"Lady Leandra says we're going to see the World Cup now?"

"_No Coco,"_ Leandra told the elf firmly. "I told you, we're returning to England in time for the Final Match. No sooner than that. It's only a few more days, okay?"

"Coco just hopes Lady Leandra has change of heart, that's all," Coco said droopily.

Sirius laughed, that laugh of his that remind Corvus of Padfoot's bark. " How's the game goin', Coco?"

Coco gave a miserable whimper. "Transylvania is very mean to beat England like this. It is two hundred and thir-" she was interrupted when the announcer on the radio went wild as another score was made. Coco corrected her answer. "Two hundred and forty points to ten."

"Two hundred and forty to ten?" Sirius repeated, popping up from behind the refrigerator's door. "That's _embarrassing!"_

Coco nodded, looking very depressed. Corvus held back a snigger. Her melancholy made her funnier looking. She had large orb-like eyes, one blue one brown and her ears stood out like floppy pigtails.

Leandra sighed before continuing. "As I was saying, Ludo was really pleased with how the stadiums came out. He hinted a lot over the summer that his Department would from now on work with the Tower for any future projects like the World Cup. It was flattering, but ultimately I wasn't really looking forward to any more Quidditch projects - " she ignored Coco's affronted gasp, " – but it turns out that isn't _all _Ludo's been planning. His people and the people in the Department of International Magical Co-operation are _one _signature away from bringing back the Triwizard Tournament!"

"_What?" _said Corvus and Sirius at once.

"Didn't they stop having the Tournament because the death toll rose too high?" asked Sirius.

"Yup, that's why the Heads of Durmstrang, Beauxbatons and Hogwarts, along with the Ministry of Magic obviously, agreed there should be an age restriction on contenders," she smiled. "And Ludo says they've had a hell of time working over the summer to ensure that this time, no contender will be placed in mortal danger."

"What's the age limit?" Corvus asked his mother, looking very keen. Both she and Sirius smirked over at him.

"They're only allowing seventeen year olds to compete, sweetheart," Leandra broke the news.

"What's the prize?" asked Sirius.

"What besides the Triwizard Cup and the _glory _of your school?" Leandra laughed. "Oh nothing much else… just a thousand Galleons…"

Corvus groaned. "That's not fair, everyone should have a chance to compete."

"Even the first years?" Sirius challenged.

"First-years don't count," he grumbled.

"_So, _Ludo wants me personally overseeing the gaming sites," his mother said happily. "That means I'll be visiting Hogwarts quite a bit, Corvy. I'll be able to meet up with you, maybe even meet all your friends finally."

"You'll meet them when we go the Final Match," he reminded her. "Louis's father works for the Nimbus Racing Broom Company."

"Oh right, he designed the Firebolt, didn't he?"

Corvus nodded.

"You know the designer of the Firebolt?" Sirius was astonished. "Does your friend have his own then?"

"No, his father's promised him one only if he gets three Outstandings in his NEWTs," Corvus replied pointedly. "Louis doesn't get glamorous gifts for doing nothing."

Sirius frowned.

"Still, if I'm around Hogwarts I'll be able to keep up with you," Leandra smiled, redirecting the conversation. "Merlin knows I have to twist your arm to write me letters regularly."

"What she means, Corv, is that this way she can give your next girlfriend a seal of approval," Sirius muttered nonchalantly. Last year while Sirius was lurking about Hogwarts disguised as a dog, he came across Corvus a few times. Twice he saw him with his ex-girlfriend Morag MacDougal.

"Shut up."

"Don't worry, sweetheart, _I _won't be stalking you on your first date with anyone," his mother assured him.

"I didn't know it was a date until they started snoggin – "

"We weren't doing that!" His mother was trying to hide her face while she shook silently with laughter. Sirius was grinning at his nephew. "Can we talk about something else?"

"Corvy, don't be angry," his mother said once most of her smirk was gone. "It's perfectly normal for you to start, you know, taking an interest in girls."

"I think MacDougal might've put me off them for now," Corvus mumbled. MacDougal had been obsessive and frightening, to say the very least.

"Surely she was nice at the beginning," said Leandra.

"You just made the rookie mistake of going for looks alone, Corv," said Sirius wisely. "A lot of guys do that, they see a pretty girl and they don't see the light of day for months."

"Yes," his mother interrupted, her eyebrow rose at Sirius, "_he _should have plenty of advice to give you. He had many, _many_ girls falling over themselves for him."

"Not many, _many _girls! And you can ask Lupin, I only had three girlfriends," he retorted. "And that's including you."

For a moment his mother's eyes fluttered, but then she grinned, "But you weren't shy when it came to girls."

"I never saw the point in being shy about anything," he said simply.

They were looking at each other in that way again. With twinkling eyes and a smile grin. Corvus decided to call it a day, "I'm going to… take a shower."

**XXX**

_Student:__ Anwar Sadat Rajan, Slytherin… 11 December 1990_

_Incident__: Ambushed Prof. Quirell's Muggle Studies class when he strapped a strip of Dungbombs to  
a wind-up toy car and sent it into the classroom after lighting the wick._

_Punishment__: Month's detention, starting with Rajan cleaning Quirell's classroom. NO MAGIC_

_Authorized by__: A. Filch_

**XXX**

He didn't take a shower, but he kept to his room. Their summerhouse was a simple single storey house. From the outside it looked ancient, rotten and condemned. But thanks to his mother's expertise, the inside was cozy and handsome. There were three bedrooms, one bathroom and a kitchen.

To calm down from another day watching his mother grow closer to Sirius, Corvus decided to focus his mind on business. He sent a letter out to all the Salesmen about the Triward Tournament, telling them they needed to start brainstorming how they can profit from the event. Corvus felt this tournament had the potential of being as profitable as the Chamber of Secrets had been.

He also mentioned how he felt that they should have a prank planned out to pull on their former Salesmen member, Jeremy 'Pretzel' Petzold. That would just be for fun, and it might be a nice way to get their new member, Daphne Greengrass, into the swing of things.

After writing the letters, he still felt restless. Corvus pulled out his photo-album. His mother had given him this album last summer. It contained pictures of him when he was a baby and when most of his family was still alive – including his father.

There was a picture of his grandparents, Dante and Lolita Stirling – Corvus was two years old, sitting on his grandfather's lap holding a white bunny rabbit. They would always be laughing and smiling in the magical photograph.

There was a picture of Corvus with his mother's aunt, Flora Bones and her husband Edgar with their three children.

Ascanius Stirling had killed them all.

And then there was his most favorite picture of all. It was taken a few hours after his mother had given birth to him. Corvus was bundled up and held between his mother and father in bed. His mother's dark copper hair was held loosely back, with plenty of pieces stuck to her sweaty face. She looked exhausted but happy. His father looked like he'd been through a windstorm, it was the one picture Corvus had where his hair looked truly unkempt. In all the others he had it combed back.

He liked studying pictures of his father.

He wondered if his mother thought about him as much as Corvus did lately.

**XXX**

_Daphne Greengrass, _

_Compartment E, one o'clock.  
Come alone.__If anyone follows you, we will not meet with you.  
We will assume you've tried to double-cross us. And you will regret it._

**XXX**

Leandra was mixing the cake batter while Sirius worked on the icing. He kept looking over at the direction to Corvus's bedroom. "You know he's telling his friends about the Tournament. They probably want to plan something for it."

"Something sinister?" she cocked an eyebrow, playfully.

He shrugged. "Something fun, something for the Salesmen."

She snickered. "Don't give me that look. He's got his gang of friends just like you had in Hogwarts. It's just his way of having fun, and I've never got a letter sent home saying they hurt anyone because of it."

Sirius didn't comment on that. When he was hiding out at Hogwarts disguised as Padfoot, he'd seen a lot of the Salesmen. He knew a lot more about Leandra's son's extracurricular activities. "But you told him about the Tournament know…"

"I figured he needed something to get excited over," she replied.

"Yeah lately he's only been _dreading _things… like seeing me in the morning," Sirius mumbled. Leandra laughed.

"Stop it, he's warming up to you." She poured the cake batter into the pan. "But you know… maybe you should try to cut back with talking about Harry."

"I don't understand why," he said. "I thought he liked Harry. He helped him and Hermione rescue you me at Hogwarts. They worked really well together."

Leandra gave him a small smile, "He's a teenage boy, there's nothing we can do about it."

**XXX**

_Whoever appeals to the law against his fellow Salesmen is either a fool or a coward. Whoever is caught by the law and squeals to save his own hide, is both.  
It is dastardly and contemptible to betray the name of another Salesmen. If someone wishes to step down from the duties of being a Salesman or should a Salesman be cast from the fold,  
they must still obey to the Code of Silence and he cannot seek revenge by exposing the secrets of Salazar's Salesmen._

_Should any disobey these words, expect the most excruciating and damageable magical consequences to befall you. You're mind and body will be victimized beyond mercy._

_Signing your name binds you to these words;_

_x. Corvus D. Blackstone__x.  
x. Maxwell Love__x.  
R. Vaisey__x.  
x. J. R. Petzold-Newstark__  
x. Anwar Rajan  
x. Daphne Greengrass_

**XXX**

The Squib was feeling jittery. She'd come to Albania like he'd asked. At the beginning of the summer he'd found her in Romania. Told her she had a chance to help the Dark Lord. She gave him all the money he needed, all the supplies, she even drove him to the capital of Albania. And it had been weeks, since she heard word of him, she was beginning to get scared.

Before Eros Stirling committed suicide, he funded a grand project in Berlin. A second Tower was to be built. There were many Stirlings left in Eastern Europe, very distant relatives of those in England. Eros put Leandra in charge of overseeing its establishment. When she had to return to London as Madam Crafter, she put Brutus Stirling in charge of the Berlin Tower.

And when Leandra returned a few months later to Berlin to elope with Regulus Black, Brutus was at her wedding. Also at the wedding was Métis Stirling, Brutus's forgotten Squib daughter who Leandra and Regulus took in to work as their nanny for Corvus. Then on March 12 1981 Métis betrayed Leandra to Ascanius.

Métis was the Squib that was feeling jittery. She was a very tall woman, taller than Leandra and painfully skinny. Her grayish blonde hair was long and braided so strictly that it looked like robe down her boney back.

She was waiting at a wayside inn. If she went over to the windows she could see an expanse of thick, dark forest. Finally the inn's door open. A short, rather round man entered, wearing a black traveler's cloak. Métis stood up at once.

"Oh Mr. Petti-"

Peter Pettigrew shushed her fretfully. His watery, small eyes searched the inn. Métis kept rubbing her boney hands together anxiously.

"Well, is it – is it done?"

"Everything is set," he told her in a hush voice. Metis felt a great relief. "But," he added quickly, "it won't happen yet. The Dark Lord doesn't need him yet, he-he has another servant, one that is already placed… closer," he explained ineloquently.

"But he is the Dark Lord's most willing servant," she pleaded. "Please do not let him rot in Nuremgard any longer, _please_ let him serve his lord again."

"I said not yet," he squeaked. "But the Dark Lord will want him soon."

* * *

...

...

**A/N** It took me FOREVER to figure out how to start this fic, I hope it read well and those who aren't familiar with the characters/story understood what was happening. I still have background-tidbits to explain but those will be explained in later chapters. I want this fic to move quickly so we can get to Hogwarts! Next chapter will be up Sunday, it will include.... Maxwell Love... the Stirling Tower... Umbridge...


	2. Return to Stirling Tower

**Return to Stirling Tower**

It was their last day in Costa Rica and they were celebrating it by going to the beach one last time. But first Leandra wanted to say her goodbyes to Buckbeak, the escaped Hippogriff if you will remember.

Buckbeak's shadow glided over them. Corvus squinted up from the porch of their summerhouse. The Hippogriff loved the days he was allowed to fly in the light of day. A peregrine falcon was spinning through the air ahead of Buckbeak, teasing him to chase her.

"Sometimes I get real jealous of your mum," said Sirius abruptly. He pushed past the screen door to come outside, his swimming trunks on and rubbing sunscreen onto his skeleton-like arms. It was hard not to stare. "Animagi who can transform into winged animals are rare."

"I guess she'll save money on buying broomsticks."

"I guess she will… Hey, your mum tells me you're pretty good on a broomstick," he said amiably. "Have you ever thought about playing Quidditch?"

"Quidditch isn't for me, but I like flying."

"Yeah, I know what you mean," he came to sit next to him. "I loved flying too, but I didn't have a knack for Quidditch. Watched it every chance I got though. Some players are just amazing on a broom, like James – it was really something to watch him. Now Harry's got it."

"That seems to be the general opinion," he muttered.

"Has he ever lost a match?"

Corvus clenched his jaw. "Once, when you showed up and brought all the Dementors with."

"Oh right… but other than that he's never lost?" He gave his bark-like laugh. "Just like his father. It's a shame he doesn't get to play over the summer, those Muggles don't let him do a th – "

He stopped talking, finally noticing Corvus's very deathly glare.

"Sorry."

Corvus rolled his eyes. Apparently his mother was going to take all day before taking them to the beach, so he opened up his book, _Best of All Worlds: Discovering Worlds through Animagi. _

Sirius was silent next to him, but Corvus could feel his eyes on him.

"Haven't you finished reading that yet?" Corvus looked up to find his uncle smirking at him. Slowly, Corvus let himself smirk too. He wasn't really reading the book anymore; he was more studying it actually.

"I'm giving it another read."

"I'm willing to bet that book's giving you a few ideas."

"Ideas about what?" he feigned innocence. Sirius laughed.

"The _Salesmen_ probably could go to town with Animagi," he said.

Corvus shrugged, "Perhaps they could. I wouldn't know, I'm not a Salesmen."

"Of course, I wasn't suggesting you were," replied Sirius, still smirking. "You're just a studious young man, pursuing knowledge for the sake of knowledge."

"Exactly."

"No exploitation involved."

"Nope."

Sirius stretched his legs out. "Maybe one day I'll pass my knowledge onto you about magical topography," he said casually.

Corvus laughed this time; "I'm always up for learning."

A good conversation _was _possible between Corvus and Sirius. They were rare though. Sometimes Corvus felt it had to do with his own anxiety towards Sirius. For him there would always be an elephant in the room with them…

**X  
X**

That elephant manifested the night Sirius escaped the Dementors at Hogwarts. Corvus had been involved with all of it, including the time traveling bit and he even was there when they locked Sirius in Professor Flitwick's office.

His mother was in the Forbidden Forest, distracting Lupin so Corvus and the others could get away safely. Corvus went to get help from Dumbledore, leaving Potter and Granger to take care of an unconscious Ron Weasley. Corvus wasn't there when the Dementors came and therefore he hadn't passed out.

Corvus told Dumbledore everything he could before Snape arrived with his own version of that night. The Headmaster however gave Corvus a second chance to explain by having him accompany him to Flitwick's office.

When Sirius woke up Dumbledore asked him a few more questions. At this point there still seemed no hope that Corvus or anyone could help prove Sirius innocent.

"Allow me, Corvus," the Headmaster said politely. There'd been a knock on the door. It was time to go. "Come out when you're ready, though please try not to exceed five minutes or so. Then we'll return to Mr. Potter and Miss Granger, for a quick word."

Dumbledore slipped out of the room so quickly that Corvus didn't have the time to decline. The door snapped shut, leaving him alone with Sirius Black for the first time.

Corvus didn't know much about his past. Unfortunately there had been articles about his parents in the _Daily Prophet_ that he'd read. Rita Skeeter at the beginning of her career wrote one particular article. It was written the year his father went missing.

…_Before Regulus and Leandra came out as a couple, Leandra was linked to another member of the Black  
family, Sirius Black. Leandra was reportedly in a serious relationship with Regulus's older brother during  
late '77 until early '78. No one has yet to comment on Sirius Black. _

Corvus was born October 27, 1978. And he knows how to do math. And so began the confusion…

"Your mum's going to be okay."

He looked back at him, scowling, "How do you know?"

"She's tough, your mum," Sirius croaked. He was sitting on the floor, his legs drawn up with his thin, wasted arms around them. "She knows how to keep alive, to keep ahead… I always admired that about her, she could be all that and still be… so sweet."

He'd never heard anyone talk about his mother like this. The worse part was that Sirius said it with such sincerity.

"I didn't want all this, it was suppose to be quick, easy… it was meant to be just me and Peter tonight… I'm sorry, Corvus."

A gnawing sensation grew in the pit of his stomach, that strange feeling had been happening all night.

Sirius's eyes lit up suddenly. "By the way, you have a mean Stinging Hex."

"Hn."

"Merlin, I remember when you were just a tiny thing," he went on. "The first time I saw you was at St. Mungo's… you scared me at first, but then… I didn't want you to leave me. I just wanted to know you, that sounds strange, I know, but…"

Corvus bit his bottom lip, unblinkingly watching Sirius Black.

"Hey," he smiled weakly, "You're mum does that a lot too… biting the bottom lip thing. She'd do it when she's trying to decide someth-"

"Are you my father?"

It'd been weighing on him since Sirius's escape. How was Corvus supposed to know? He had to ask.

Sirius was looking at him, his expression very gentle, too gentle for it to be good news. Corvus was holding his breath without realizing it.

"No."

He deflated like a balloon. _No? _

"Regulus… he was your father."

A strange sensation took over Corvus. His eyes were stinging, his face felt hot and his hands were trembling. It was humiliation… disappointment… he felt cheated.

"Corvus?"

The walls felt like they were closing in on him. He had to get the hell out of there. Without another word, without another _glance_ Corvus fled Flitwick's office, leaving Sirius Black locked inside alone.

They didn't see each other again until Corvus arrived in Costa Rica with his mother and Coco. Every time they were left alone, even for a minute, he feared Sirius might try to bring it up. He felt on edge about it. It was just a question. His nerves were haywire that night. It was a mistake. It was stupid. There was nothing more to it and he never wanted it brought up again.

**X  
X**

"Our ticket home," muttered Leandra as she picked up a large cardboard box from the hallway. They were in a five-star hotel room in Mexico City. Two hours ago they'd said their goodbyes to Sirius and Buckbeak.

_Home, _he repeated the word privately. They'd lived in anonymity as the Blackstone family before Sirius broke out of Azkaban. Leandra fled England during an attack by Ascanius, a few months before You-Know-Who's downfall. They found refuge in Canada. They had to build a new life from scratch.

He'd always had pride in his life as Corvus _Blackstone_. His mother juggled being a single-mother and a freelance crafter. They jumped from one location to the next, wherever there was work. By the time Corvus was eight they had a pretty good lifestyle. The could afford what they wanted. And everything about their lives, they'd made for themselves.

But then Sirius broke out and exposed their real history. A history that was made entirely without Corvus's consent… it was a history he was still very detached from. Like the word _home_, that didn't mean the same thing anymore. It was permanent now – belonged to the Stirling Tower and to England.

"Check the time, Corvy," said Leandra as she opened the cardboard box.

"It's eleven o'clock," he answered, looking at his silver pocket watch. It had belonged to his father.

"Okay, we have a few minutes until it's time." She dug her hands through Styrofoam popcorn. At last she pulled out a large ceramic pot.

"Oh! Oh! Final Match happens tomorrow! Coco heart beats so fast, Lady Leandra!" Coco was jumping around her master's leg. She was wearing a mix-match of Bulgarian and Irish colors and logos.

"So… now where's he going to go?" asked Corvus, his eyes on the face of his father's old watch. It was set with diamonds and emeralds were numbers should be.

His mother sighed heavily, her voice lacked confidence. "He figures it's best we don't know, but our owls will find him."

"Hn."

Leandra brushed her fingers through his dark, wavy hair. She stared at him fondly, "He's going to miss you."

"We've got a minute now," he told her. Coco froze from her strange happy dance. Her eyes grew wider, which seemed impossible, as they were already impressively wide. Leandra picked her up by the back of her Bulgarian jersey, so the House-elf could hold onto the Portkey.

Corvus placed a hand on the ceramic pot. Leandra put her hand next to his. He braced himself, shutting his eyes tightly and screwing up his face.

International Portkey travel was more strenuous on the nerves than normal Portkey travel. Corvus wasn't looking forward to it. He felt that strange sensation of something hooking onto him just behind his navel and the jerking him forwards. There was a howl of wind. The wind was hot and it whipped him across the face a few times before they reached their destination – the Stirling Tower.

He let out a lung full of air. His hair was blown straight back, he could feel that his clothes had been disheveled as well. He blinked several times before he could see properly again. Beside him, barely at knee-height to him, Coco yelped. Her Ireland hat had been blown off. It had landed a few feet away. His mother looked the least windswept.

"M-Miss Leandra!"

They were on the ground floor of the Tower. There was a long spiral staircase that curled dizzyingly upwards, leading to over twenty different arched doorways. The ceiling was enchanted like that of Hogwarts' Great Hall. The ground floor was the only floor that permitted guests – unofficially the guests were to be potential paying customers. All other floors were off limits to any non-Crafter employed by the Tower.

"Hello, Penelope," his mother created her apprentice. Penelope Clearwater was standing by a long table set in the middle of the ground floor. The table was set with silver platters of cheese, crackers, grapes and a pitcher of ice water. She brushed back her mass of curly brown hair from her face. Her hand was slightly trembling.

"Everything's prepared for your meeting," she informed Leandra. She looked over at Corvus. "Welcome back, Corvus, I hope you enjoyed your summer."

"It was alright."

"Where's the tea?" interrupted Leandra. Penelope yelped a little. Corvus sniggered.

"Oh dear! I just _knew_ I was forgetting something," she tried to laugh casually but it came off hysterical. "I will get it immediately."

"Good," she nodded. "Then I believe there are receipts that still need filling upstairs. After than you may take lunch."

"You won't need me here to assist during the meeting?"

"It's only a few Ministry officials," smiled Leandra. "Easy stuff, but thank you."

"Yes, Madame," she jerkily bowed and went to fetch the tea.

Leandra took out her wand. With a simple flick of it her clothes her changed into the official attire as Madame Crafter. The Stirling brooch was set under neck on a black silk cloak hanging over her shoulders. Underneath she wore flowing robes of red and violet.

**X  
X**

Corvus didn't stick around the Tower for long. He had to meet someone. He waited outside the Leaky Caldron. While waiting, he tried to force himself not to think about the summer, and how everything had changed. A lot was still _going _to change. He could feel it. He could also feel that he wasn't going to have any control over it. That annoyed him the most.

He sighed. Corvus took out his Hogwarts letter, which finally arrived yesterday, to take his mind off of things. He was about to open it –

"Hey."

Corvus looked up and grinned, "You're early, did you miss me that much? Couldn't wait to see me, huh?"

The corner of Maxwell Love's lips pulled into a half-smirk. It was nice to see his best friend hadn't changed much over the summer. His dirty-blonde hair was still stringy and he had those dark eyebrows hooding his calm azure eyes. He was taller, but Corvus noted that he was still a head taller than him.

"Sure, I miss you terribly," he told Corvus. His accent still had that watered down American tinge to it. "And my train was ahead of schedule."

"Oh lucky us," he drawled. "Where to first? I doubt we'll get enough time to get rubbish for school after the match tomorrow."

"True, let's go to Borgin and Burkes first."

"Going to buy yourself something pretty?"

"Last time I went there, Borgin had this ring that can age the wearer. I can't remember if he said it's cursed so the aging is irreversible – worth looking into because of the age limit set on the Triwizard Tournament or what."

"Want the ring for yourself then, Maxi? Can't blame you, a thousand Galleons is worth it."

This time Max laughed. "No thanks. I know of other ways to earn a thousand Galleons, but there's idiots at school who don't and they'll be pretty desperate."

"You wouldn't want to compete in the Tournament?"

"I'm not the type to perform for an audience."

"Yes, that isn't your style at all, Love."

"And you?" Max glanced at him, giving his half-smirk again. "I figured you'd be thinking of ways to enter since your mum told you about the Tournament."

Corvus laughed. This type of tournament tempted him. Showing off how clever, resourceful and advanced he is _while _publicly out-matching someone else – it was something he tried to do on a daily basis.

"We'll see, if that ring's effects _are_ reversible… we'll see."

The two boys walked comfortably towards Knockturn Alley. On the road separating Diagon Alley and Knockturn Alley was the Stirling Tower. It was a tall, spindling gothic tower. It was made of strange stone, the color of dark burgundy. Passerbys could sense something radiating from within, a powerful something. Above the door is a plaque proclaiming this tower as "The Center of Superior Crafting and Home of the Stirling Family."

"So excited for the match tomorrow?" he asked Max. Max rolled his eyes. He was never much of a Quidditch fan.

"I'm excited to stop getting harassing letters from Louis pestering me to come to the World Cup, yes. The game itself… I could wait to read about it in the _Daily Prophet._"

Corvus sniggered. "Louis's been writing you too then? Yeah, he's been very persistent about getting us all back together."

"Since him and Milvina Fox ended things, or what, he's been telling me about this group of American girls he's met there," sighed Max. "Keeps asking me about American stuff to bring up with them."

They came to Borgin and Burkes. Corvus opened the door, swinging it wide open for him and Max. A bell rung over the door as they entered. The old, ragged voice of Mr. Borgin called from the back room, promising to be right with them.

The two boys lazily walked through the store, admiring the various objects of dark magic and dangerous magical artifacts. Draco Malfoy once told him about the Hand of Glory, which he found on a dusty shelf almost immediately. It was an interesting find, and he was considering buying it. He often found himself sneaking through darkness. A Hand of Glory would be handy.

He was about to ask Max what he thought about purchasing the Hand of Glory. But he noticed his friend was eying something else. Max was standing in front of an opal necklace labeled _Cursed. _It apparently had taken the lives of nineteen Muggles. He wondered what went through his friend's mind when he was confronted with stuff like that.

The sound of shuffling feet came from behind the counter and finally Mr. Borgin emerged. Max turned sharply away from the opal necklace, his expression pleasant. "Hello Mr. Borgin," he greeted the greasy-haired storekeeper first.

"Ah, Mr. Maxwell Love," Mr. Borgin purred. His dark eyes twinkled and he turned to the other boy. If possible, he looked even more delighted. "Merlin bless me," he breathed. "It has been ages… young master Black."

"Huh… Mr. Black is fine."

"Of course, of course," Mr. Borgin practically bowed.

Corvus gave Max a look, demanding that he ask Borgin about the ring immediately. His friend stepped in.

"Mr. Borgin, we were wondering if you still have that aging ring in stock," he said. Mr. Borgin smiled eagerly.

"Yes, in fact it was polished _just_ yesterday, are you interested in seeing it?"

"Possibly, but I have a few questions first. Exactly how does the ring work?"

"Fascinating item, truly, but you've always had a good eye for merchandise, Mr. Love," Borgin complimented. Corvus smirked to himself, he knew Max didn't like the sound of being called 'Mr. Love.' "For every hour it's worn, the ring ages its wearer ten years. The man I procured it from had the most amusing story about it, a ridiculous Muggle woman found it and wore it for _fashion_ and it cut her useless life in half!"

Mr. Borgin laughed. Max's smile was_ just_ noticeably strained, Corvus knew that if he didn't know Max so well he wouldn't be able to spot the unease in his expression. Corvus decided to redirect the conversation, "Are the effects reversible?"

"The wearer only has to take the ring off to stop the aging, however... the time stolen is never retrievable."

"Ten years for every hour?" repeated Max, thoughtfully. He looked over at Corvus, who shrugged.

"There'd definitely be a market for it," he said.

"Could you give us a moment?" he asked Mr. Borgin, who bowed deeply again and disappeared in the back again. Max gave Corvus a tired look, "Are you mad, Blackstone? Ten years per hour?"

"It's a risk we should let the customer decide for himself or herself about," he said smartly. "Plus, aren't you alittle curious about _how _the aging process will play out, what would they _look _like with an added ten years after an hour."

Max laughed but shook his head, "No."

Corvus never did anything his second-in-command didn't approve of. "Fine then, Mr. Love."

Max looked around the store, they never left Borgin and Burkes empty handed. He pointed at something on a nearby shelf. It was a small bag of Siberian Itching Powder. "Didn't you used that on Curtis?"

Corvus thought for a moment and grinned, "Curtis? I thought it was Robinson."

Max chuckled, "Could be right, both wankers or what."

"He left a trail of flaky, dry skin for weeks after Pomfrey sorted him out," he remembered, laughing too.

**X  
X**

While her son was restocking the Salesmen's supplies, Leandra sat with the Minister of Magic, his Senior Under-Secretary and the Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation. Easy stuff.

"Leandra! You look splendid, a good summer I take it?" asked Cornelius Fudge, taking his bowler hat off as he took his seat.

"Seriously good, yes," she gave a faint smile. "Now gentlemen, we should get onto – oh right, pardon," she pouted at Dolores Umbridge, "Gentlemen _and _Dolores – lets jump right in, what was the verdict on the blueprints for the First Task's arena?"

"Precisely what was called for," said Barty Crouch promptly. He adjusted his cufflinks, very stiffly.

"Yes, we have no complaints, nothing needs to be changed," agreed Fudge.

"_Ahem_." Leandra ignored Umbridge as she cleared her throat. To Leandra she was just a large pink dot in the corner of her eye.

"Thank you," she said. "It won't be exactly a treat for the eye. I couldn't do much with the designs, given the _lack _of information you shared about the _nature _of the First Task."

"_Ahem." _

"Miss Black, must I remind you the importance of upholding the confidentiality – " started Crouch.

"No, you mustn't," replied Leandra, smiling. "I was just saying, it's not going to look pretty."

"_Ahem!" _Umbridge simply shouted it this time. Crouch and Fudge looked at her, Leandra calmly took a sip from her tea.

"Dolores?" asked Fudge.

"Leandra, could you pass the grapes, dear?"

Leandra couldn't help herself, her eyes finally looked over at the Under-Secretary. "It's possible yes," she muttered and pushed the bowl over to her.

"The designs weren't… _elegant_, but I'm sure no one will notice," she chimed. "After all everyone will be there for the Tournament itself, not the arena."

"And the Tournament should be greatly enjoyable," said Fudge, interrupting the women. "I'm sure the students will be very excited. I forget – will your son be of age, Leandra?"

"No, he's turning sixteen this October," she told him. "But he'll enjoy the event nevertheless."

"Must be hard to keep a surprise like the Tournament from him," remarked Ludo.

Leandra laughed a little to herself. "So – are we ready to talk about what'll be needed for the Second Task?"

"Afraid not, my dear," said Fudge. "Barty feels it's best that we wait until it's closer to the date."

Crouch nodded his head, looking stiff still. "I predict by December we'll be able to go over the requirements."

"Very well," she nodded.

"You should know, Leandra, we've been getting nothing but compliments on the facilities you built for the World Cup," assured the Minister. "I heard many of my international colleagues call the stadiums majestic."

"_Ahem."_

Leandra looked at Umbridge. "Oh, I thought you were choking on a grape."

Umbridge's beady eyes narrowed slightly. "I've always been curious, Miss Leandra."

"Yes, Dolores?"

"Your family was apart of the construction of Azakaban, were they not? One of them died because of it?"

"Oh dear, how have we let ourselves digress to this?" laughed Fudge nervously.

"Yes, a great-great-great grandfather was killed and buried within the construction," replied Leandra easily. "Now, Dolores, are you asking me if this means Azkaban can never confine a Stirling? Because the prison owes its existence to our blood?"

"I'm curious."

"You _are _curious," she agreed slyly. "I don't know if it's true. But it's a tale many believe – like yourself last year when I was put on trail as a suspected accomplice to Sirius Black's escape from Azkaban."

"A misunderstanding!" chirped Fudge. "It was a very chaotic situation, so many of us didn't know which way was up – thankfully it was all dealt with and cleared up quickly."

"Thank Merlin trials still prove innocent people innocent," said Leandra. Umbridge cleared her throat again.

"One can't blame the confusion, given your … um … complicated history, _relations_ really, with the Black family."

"I'm very sympathetic to confused people, trust me," she answered. "But I find it odd that after I publicly, and repeatedly, explained my private life relating to Sirius Black and the circumstances I was in during the war – people still didn't believe me over what they'd heard through out-of-date gossip from old _Daily Prophet_ articles."

There was an awkward silence. The two women just stared at each other. Leandra was waiting for some acknowledgement, she knew Umbridge wasn't going to sincerely apologize, but when the Madame Crafter realized she wouldn't get any satisfaction, she stood up.

"If there is no further business to discuss…"

**X  
X**

When Mr. Borgin returned he was saddened to hear the boys weren't going to purchase the ring. However, they left Borgin and Burkes with a few bags of the itching powder, a cursed hairbrush and shoelaces that tie themselves into knots to trip their wearers.

As they walked back to Diagon Alley, they passed the Stirling Tower. Corvus and Max looked up. A unique part of the Tower was its stained glass windows; they changed on their own accord. And as the two fifteen-year-old boys crossed, they changed from a depiction of knights in battle to a blanket of stars. A silvery line connected some stars to show a particular constellation.

"Hey, isn't that the Sirius constellation?" remarked Max.

"Yes." Corvus glared at the windows. Apparently the Tower had a sense of humor.

"The work load is going to be a lot this year, or what, with OWLs," said Max, knowing to change the topic. "Reckon it's a good thing we got Daphne on board – supposing she's serious about wanting to be a real player with us."

"I thought you trusted her, Max," he replied, frowning a little.

"I don't know her, none of us do," he pointed out. He had his hands in his pocket and he shrugged, "To be honest, I still don't get her reason for joining us."

"She told us why," he said.

"She told you why, yeah, but the rest of us haven't spoken to her really."

"She's with Louis and Anwar right now for the Final Match!" he reminded him, a little annoyed. "They haven't complained about her, Louis hardly mentions her in his letters – Honestly, if you're worried about her finding out about you being a Mug –"

Max glared at him, looking over his shoulders like they might've been followed. Corvus rolled his eyes. Diagon Alley was all but deserted; most people were away at the World Cup or locked inside waiting to hear news about the World Cup.

"Told you, Max, she's not like Petzold. Louis and Anwar like her, and they can spot a tosser like Petzold from miles away," said Corvus.

"I haven't changed my mind about letting her join, or what," replied Max. "Just saying, I still have my doubts."

"Right. Well, I think she'll do fine," he said. "And like you said, we're going to have more rubbish to do for our classes, add that to general Salesmen duties and our _other _endeavors – and we need the extra hand."

Max nodded. "Did you finish _Best of All Worlds?_"

"Yup."

"We're using the same book we did fourth year in Transfiguration," Max said, "but I figure we ought to buy the NEWT level text, or what, maybe a few other titles too. I drew up a list." He pulled out his Hogwarts' list of books but on the back, written in his tight, small handwriting was his own list. He handed it over to Corvus.

"It's going to happen this year," smiled Corvus. "Been thinking about it all summer – I can't wait."

Max nodded. "A lot of doors will be opened for the Salesmen – and, becoming an Animagus is a bit life-changing, or what."

"Pretty sure it will be." Corvus noted that while the list was largely of Transfiguration books, it did have a good number of books about Potions too. Max's favorite subject was Potions; he was very advanced for his age. He returned the list to Max.

"I haven't even opened my school letter." Corvus went into his back pocket and pulled out his still sealed Hogwarts letter. "Burbage warned us at the end of last year that we're going to have a lot of reading for Muggle Studies – we're finally going to touch upon Muggle engineering and architecture, after two years of rubbish I'm going to get to work on becoming a Crafter."

He opened the letter. Usually it only contained two pieces of parchment, one with the reminder that term starts on the first of September and the other with the books he'd need. But there was a third piece of parchment this time. And something small and shiny fell out too. Max bent down to pick it up.

Corvus couldn't believe it. Max's azure eyes went wide as he stared at the silver and emerald badge, "This is… you're … you're a –"

"_No."_

"A Prefect."

It had to be a joke. A really, really bad joke.

* * *

...

...

Sorry to all the story-alert people! I wanted to make some revisions to this chapter. A whole bunch of back story was added between the opening and when Leandra and Corvus leave via Portkey. It's the memory of when Corvus asked Sirius if he was his father... of course that embarrassing episode is still on his mind :S Hopefully now I've covered everything about Corvus's past and his relationship with Sirius... and now we can move on!


	3. Fickle and Freckled Things

**Fickle and Freckled Things **

It was almost like the sun was taunting him as it's light reflected off the silver and emerald Prefect badge. Corvus felt rooted in spot in the middle of Diagon Alley. His lip curled nastily. This wasn't funny. This wasn't right. What was Dumbledore thinking, sending _him _this?

He scanned the letter accompanying the badge…_ exemplify the personality and traits of your house… academic leader for others… role model… _

"Dumbledore's completely lost it," he said disdainfully. "Or he's trying to mess with me."

Max rarely ever showed his emotions, but seeing that that large "P" superimposed on the Slytherin serpent on a badge was bewildering for him too. "I was wondering who'd get it this year…"

"How can it be _me?_" snapped Corvus. "I've spent every year at Hogwarts thus far undermining Dumbledore's authority – actually _all_ authority."

"You helping out with Sirius and what, at the end of last year might have something to do with it," said Max quietly. This thought angered him even more.

"What, is this his idea of a reward? What happened last year, was a fluke. I had my own reasons for getting involved, I wasn't trying to help Potter out – Dumbledore better not think I'm his new boy toy. Am I allowed to _refuse_ this?"

"Don't send it back, you'll just come off looking like a prat," his friend scowled. "Besides… it's not completely mad, Dumbledore choosing you. You're top of our year – "

"So are you!" he retorted. "You're probably the best in the entire school at Potions."

"You're better at Transfiguration and Defense Against the Dark Arts than me."

"Hold on – we got the same grade in Defense."

"Dumbledore chose you."

"Clearly, but I don't understand _why._"

Max took the letter away from Corvus. "You exemplify the personality and traits of your house. There you go."

"You exemplify them as well – _and _you're Snape's favorite. He loathes me – because I'm bloody related to Sirius," he rolled his eyes.

"That's not true," he said slowly. "I don't exemplify _all_ the traits of Slytherin."

Corvus frowned, confused for a moment, but it quickly dawned on him. "It's not because –Dumbeldore wouldn't –"

"You're being paranoid and you're not thinking about how this is a good thing for us. We'll have less to worry about in terms of getting caught, ever."

"Sure," he grumbled. _But I'll be kept on a shorter leash too._

The doors to the Tower swung open as his mother power-walked out of there, Penelope hurrying to keep up with a pen and paper. "We need a replacement Giant wrangler, come up with a list – I don't care what their prices are, we need – Oh! Sorry Corvy," she knocked into Corvus. He let the badge fall, the stupid shining badge caught everyone's attention.

His mother's face went blank for a second, then it lit up and she flung her arms around him. "_Prefect! _Oh my – Corvus, this is wonderful!"

"Yes, congratulations Corvus," Penelope said uneasily, picking up the badge. She'd been a Prefect, a model Prefect in fact and seeing someone like Corvus getting the badge must've confused her - might've been an insult too.

"I never thought – I mean, this is _really _great," she told him. "I was never Prefect, neither was your father! Oh he'd be so proud of you!"

"Yeah, well, I dunno how I really feel about it," he told her.

She frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Sort of don't trust Dumbledore's intentions, sending me this," he put the badge in his pocket. "I like what I've got going on in Hogwarts, and this could be an attempt to weigh me down."

"And _what _exactly do you have going on in Hogwarts?" she asked slowly with a scowl.

Corvus managed not to flinch under his mother's stare. "Nothing, just a healthy social life that does not include following the rules."

She clicked her tongue. "Really Corvus, not everybody gets made Prefect. Please deflate your head a bit and be grateful."

"My head doesn't need to deflate," he muttered angrily. Max and Penelope tried to act like they weren't listening; instead they swayed in spot looking off down the street. "Whatever, I've got to get my supplies, come on Max."

**X  
X**

Later that night, Leandra was still more than a little annoyed with Corvus's attitude. She was outside the Leaky Caldron, in a back alley waiting for an old friend.

Of course she knew the summer hadn't been easy for Corvus. She tried to keep him happy, but he was resolved to brooding most days.

Plus she had to keep an eye out for Sirius too while in Costa Rica. Azkaban had changed him… he hated being inside and sometimes he'd get so quiet it unnerved her…

Was she crazy trying to begin things again with Sirius? Their relationship had never been simple. She'd been married to his brother for Merlin's sake!

_I was in love with his brother_, she corrected. That was the reality of the matter; Regulus had always been first in her heart. Sirius knew that, and before Azkaban he had the spirit to compete with his dead brother for her affection. And back then, there were days when Leandra felt like she could separate herself from her memories of Regulus.

Now she tried very hard to get back Sirius, the old Sirius she'd loved too fourteen years ago. And most importantly, Sirius needed her.

"It's so lovely to see you again, Madame Crafter," someone said from behind. Leandra turned and smiled in relief at seeing Emmeline Vance.

"Emmy," she grinned and the two women embraced. Others always underestimated Emmeline because of her petite build and sweet demeanor, but Leandra had witnessed first hand just how much power she possessed. "Thanks for coming."

"No problem, though I'm a little concerned about _why_ we're meeting."

"Yes… I'm sure it's nothing, but I wanted an extra pair of eyes," she explained. "It's not like my cousin to go missing for weeks."

Emmeline nodded and took a deep breath, "I don't know what to tell you, Lee. For the first four days I couldn't find her, no one knew where she'd gone and then I found her a few miles outside of Burcharest. She's looking to move there, and it looks like she's found a nursing job there too."

"That's all?"

"Well, she's got a – what are they called? – automobiles? She's got one of those now, I looked through it one night and found a receipt with an Albanian address."

Leandra was quiet. Albania? What business did her lowlife of a cousin have in Albania? That place had too much associated with it, too many Dark things. "Emmy… can I ask of one more favor…"

"Lee, don't pussyfoot around it, what do you need?"

"Keep a close eye on her again, but keep a look out for a rat," she told her in a whisper. "This rat will have a toe missing on one of his paws."

Emmeline looked skeptical for a split second, but she didn't ask any questions. "Sure thing," she nodded and with a _pop_ she was gone.

**X  
X**

They'd spent the night at the Leaky Caldron and they had to wake up early to catch their Portkey at three past six in the Stirling Tower. Coco's excitement was reaching new heights, it was beginning to get infectious. Corvus found himself grinning, following after Coco as she practically ran to the Tower.

She kept looking back at the rest of them. Every time Max yawned, she became annoyed and she'd hiss under her breath, "Coco no understands, Master Corvus and his friend has enough sleep last night."

Max looked over at Corvus for help, but he only laughed.

Leandra wore her official uniform as Madame Crafter again. She seemed to be thinking about something because it was as though she was miles away. Corvus looked up at the windows of the Tower as they came to its doors. They showed the mascots and colors of the Bulgarian and Irish team.

Sitting on the steps of the tower, her head resting on her knees was Penelope. She was wearing red robes with a purple sash, the uniform of the Tower's apprentice. Her back was softly rising and falling, apparently she fell asleep while waiting for them.

Leandra cleared her throat loudly. Penelope's head rolled around briefly, but she became still again. Corvus's mother gave Coco the thumbs up.

"WAKE UP! IT'S TIME FOR QUIDDITCH!" the House-elf jumped at Penelope, jolting her out of her nap. She sat back rigidly, her curly brown hair flying out in all directions. Corvus laughed openly at her, Max tried stifling his sniggers.

"Oh my!" she breathed frantically. She scrambled to her feet, straightening out her robes. "I-I apologize, M-Miss Leandra, really, I – I came early –"

"I've told you before, Penelope, just being on time is good enough for me," she reminded her. Leandra opened the doors to the Tower.

"Ten minutes early – you're on time. On time – you're late. Late – and you're fired," chanted Penelope. "That's what I've always been taught."

"It's a good motto, but come on, every day?" chuckled Leandra. They entered the Tower and waiting on the floor of the ground floor was an old, worn out baseball cap.

"You've traveled by Portkey, yeah?" Max asked Corvus quietly. He nodded. "How is it?"

"Oh you'll just love it, Max."

They crouched down in a circle and placed a hand each on the hat. Max watched Corvus hold his breathe and closed his eyes, so he did too just as the Portkey sucked them through time and space. It was much shorter than his trip from Costa Rica, but it still left him winded.

They arrived on a deserted stretch of moor. Again Coco lost her hat during the harsh landing. Corvus felt his hair was messed up again too, but poor Max had lost his footing during the travel. He landed on his butt, and if his stomach hadn't been a tad queasy, Corvus would've laughed up a storm about it.

"Three past six from Diagon Alley. Welcome Ms. Black," greeted a tiresome voice. Corvus shook his hair out while his mother went to give the baseball cap to a pair of tired looking wizards. One of them was holding a thick roll of parchment and a quill and the other had a large gold watch. Both were dressed as Muggles, actually they were _trying_ to be dressed as Muggles. The man with the watch wore a tweed suit with thigh-length galoshes; his friend wore a kilt and a poncho.

"Good morning gentlemen," said Leandra. The kilted wizard took the cap from her and threw it into a large box of used Portkeys beside him.

"Ludo Bagman's been keen on your arrival, ma'am," the kilted man.

"Yes, I know. We're meeting him at the entrance to our campsite."

The man consulted his parchment list, "Black… first field you come to there, not even a quarter of a mile's walk. Site manager's called Mr. Roberts."

"Thank you," said Leandra. She waited for Coco to fetch her hat before leading the way across the deserted moor.

"Thanks for the heads up about traveling by Portkey," Max remarked patting off his backside.

"Yeah it's horrible, I actually prefer the way Muggles travel," he said. "Sure it takes longer, but you get to relax."

"Hmm."

After about twenty minutes a small stone cottage next to a gate came into view.

"_Wow_!" exclaimed Coco as they caught the first glimpse of what lay beyond the gate. You could just make out the shapes of hundreds and hundreds of tents, rising up the gentle slope of a large field towards a dark wood on the horizon. "So many gather for the noble game of Quidditch!"

"That does look like a lot of people," agreed Max. It pleased Coco that he was _finally_ showing some interest about Quidditch.

"It was a pain to organize these campsites," said Leandra, dismissively. "So many protective charms had to be laid on the land. Otherwise the magic that supports those tents would completely tear up the earth."

"And it didn't help that Ludo Bagman didn't put restrictions on tent models allowed in, did it, Miss Leandra?" asked Penelope, a little bit in a huff.

Leandra laughed, "Yes, he 'didn't want to spoil anyone's fun.'"

"Never gave thought to _our _fun," she muttered.

They went quiet as they came to the doorway. A man was standing there, glancing sideways at the tents. He directed his full attention to them however as they approached.

"Mr. Roberts," his mother greeted. Mr. Roberts, who was clearly a Muggle, nodded.

"And who're you, madam?"

"I'm Ms. Black," she introduced herself as she fished through her handbag for her purse. "One tent, booked several weeks ago."

"Aye," said Mr. Roberts, reading over a list tacked to the door. "You've got a space up front here. Just the one night?"

"Precisely."

"You'll be paying now, then?"

She nodded, pulling out the roll of notes for Mr. Roberts. He looked at them; his eyes widened slightly when they fell on Coco. Corvus tried to discreetly step in front of her to block his view. Thankfully Mr. Roberts's stare didn't linger, he went about to getting Leandra her change.

"Your change, and a map of the campsite, madam," he finished.

"Thank you. Have a nice day, Mr. Roberts."

"Aye, you too, madam."

As they past the gate, Corvus yanked the map out of his mother's hand. "I want to see if it lists Louis's tent," he told her.

"You could've asked for it," she said.

"Sorry," he murmured. He looked at the map. "I can't remember what area Louis said his family's tent was pitched. Can you, Max?"

"Maybe Ludo will know," said Leandra as he laid a hand on his shoulder for him to look up. He had to hold back a laugh.

Ludo Bagman had clearly thrown all thoughts of Anti-Muggle security to the wind. He was wearing long Quidditch robes in thick horizontal strips of bright yellow and black. An enormous picture of a wasp was splashed across his chest. Corvus knew Bagman once played Quidditch for England before retiring and taking a job at the Ministry. You could tell he played sports professionally, though years ago. There were shadows of his physical prowess as a Beater, he had a large, strong build but he also had a large belly now. He had a battle scar in the form of a squashed nose. But his round blue eyes, short blond hair and rosy complexion made him look less like a veteran soldier and more like an overgrown schoolboy.

"Ahoy there, Madame Crafter!" Bagman called happily. He had a definite spring to his walk; no doubt he was as excited as Coco was for this day. "Oh hello there, Penny, and you brought my favorite House-elf! Coco, how are you my dear?"

"Really, really good sir!" Coco was tugging on her ears and jumping in place, with an ecstatic grin on her face.

"_And_," said Leandra as she pulled Corvus closer, "I brought my son. Ludo this is Corvus, Corvus this is Ludo Bagman."

Corvus passively began to outstretch his hand to Bagman, but the man-child grabbed it immediately. Corvus nearly stumbled forward as he shook it wildly and then gave him a hearty slap on the back.

"As handsome as his mother is beautiful, eh?" he proclaimed, his blue eyes darting in his mother's direction for a moment. Penelope looked scandalized at the behavior. "And you have the look of a Chaser about you, boy! Do you play?"

"Oh no, Master Ludo," Coco whispered gravely, like she was announcing he had some fatale disease. "He does not play Quidditch."

"But his father did," said Leandra. "He played Seeker for Slytherin. He was very good, Slughorn said he might've been the best Seeker he'd seen his entire career at Hogwarts. And you know Slughorn taught Gwenog Jones of the Holyhead Harpies?"

There was a little burst of pride inside of Corvus at hearing his mother boast about his father. "'Course I do! Old Slug and me go way back," he chuckled. "Now that you mention it, Sluggy did say there was a player in Slytherin worth looking out for."

Leandra's smile quivered for a moment. "Yes, well… and this is Corvus's friend, Maxwell Love."

Bagman gave him an aggressive handshake too.

"Have my crafters been keeping on top of necessary readjustments?" she asked him.

Bagman nodded repetitively, "They were as quick as a whistle."

"I left Liz Cresswell in charge, so I wasn't really worried," she said. "Still, I know how these type of events can be… unpredictable."

"Only in the best sense of the word, Leandra!" he said happily. "Though now that you mention it, the Bulgarians are being difficult, I can't understand a word they're saying, but I think it might be about the Top Box. Do you speak Bulgarian?"

"No, we should find Barty though."

"Yes, he's good with funny languages. But let me give you lot a tour of the campsite while we look for him, eh?"

"Why not?" she smiled and waved a hand at Penelope, "Go to our tent and make sure everything is in order. We'll meet you there before we examine the stadium."

"Yes, Miss Leandra." Penelope sped walked towards the woods, bee lining through people like a pro.

They walked up the field between long rows of tents. People were just starting to come outside into the morning light. Some tents could past as ordinary Muggle tents, but on the most part you could tell they weren't. People added to their tents chimneys, bell-pulls, weathervanes and some people blatantly disregarded anti-Muggle security. Like halfway up the field, there stood an extravagant confection of striped silk like a miniature palace, with several live peacocks tethered at the entrance. A little further up they passed a three-story tent complete with several turrets.

"You know the Tower made a killing selling tents for this," Corvus told Max. "Penelope's got nothing to complain about."

"Isn't the Ministry nervous or what, about Muggles seeing this?" wondered Max, his brow a little frowned.

They kept looking around while Bagman and his mother talked. Bagman kept mentioning his 'prolific' Quidditch career to Leandra like he was trying to impress her. The only person who was really into hearing the stories however was Coco.

Corvus kept spotting familiar faces here and there. Oliver Wood was standing outside his tent with his parents, talking to some other wizards. Cassius Warrington and Miles Bletchley were tossing around a Quaffle, their fellow Slytherins paused their game to wave as they passed.

"Max!"

Cho Chang hailed, her face lit up with a smile. Max immediately perked up. She was the first person Max met at Hogwarts. They always sat next to each other in Potions – a class their year shared with Ravenclaw. Max often joined whatever lame study-parties Cho and her friends organized. He even attended her Quidditch matches. He always maintained they were only good friends – but a blind man could see through that rubbish.

Corvus sniggered.

"Oh! Lets make a quick stop over there," Bagman pointed to a pair of shabby-looking two-man tents. Corvus immediately felt a powerful revulsion when he saw several ginger, freckled people sitting round a fire.

It was the Weasley family.

* * *

...

...

Okay, so I promised a reunion with the Golden Trio... and I didn't deliver... well, I like half delivered... It's the first thing that happens in the next chapter! It'll be up Friday. I also went back n added some things to the last chapter, like the description of the Tower from the outside and Leandra's uniform. Anyway, next will include, besides a legitimate reunion with the Golden Trio... American girls... Louis Vaisey... and his family...

Also, just to give a heads up, the next few chapters are SUPER long so... yay! R&R


	4. Weasley vs Vaisey

**Weasley vs. Vaisey  
**

The day after the whole debacle about saving Sirius from the Dementors, Corvus skipped the Hogsmeade trip. It would've been his last Hogsmeade trip of his fourth year, but he was too exhausted – mentally and physically.

"Look," said Max quietly. His friend hadn't been interested in going to Hogsmeade either. Something was weighing on him too. Corvus never asked what it was. He had enough on his mind.

Corvus lifted his head. He'd been on his way to taking a well-deserved nap. First all he noticed was the giant squid waving its tentacles lazily above the water. Then he saw what Max was talking about.

Potter, Granger and Weasley were approaching them. All three of them wore bright, smiling faces. This irritated Corvus instantly. Surely for them last night was another fun adventure, but it meant something entirely different for him.

"Hello," Granger greeted sweetly. Corvus sat up, fixing them with a scowl.

"Huh… we wanted to know if we could speak to you for a second, alone," said Potter, his eyes darting to Max and back. By this time, unbeknownst to the Gryffindor trio, Corvus had told Max everything.

"Why?"

Potter and his friends exchanged lost looks. "We wanted to ask about – er – about…"

"Your mother," chirped Granger. Leandra had left with Sirius and Buckbeak. "We wanted to just ask how she is… and if, well, if everything went well…"

"And if she has a new pet dog?" Weasley finished off. He seemed so proud of himself for coming up with that code word. Corvus made a derisive noise.

"A new pet dog?" he repeated tensely. "Sure… she got it at Britain's biggest doghouse, you know, Weasley, _your_ place."

**X  
X**

That was the last thing Corvus said to a member of the Weasley family. And as they approached the Weasleys' tents, he discovered something worse. Potter and Granger were there too.

"We're going to go look for Louis," he said quickly and tried to turn away, but his mother grabbed him by the elbow.

"No."

"But _mum _- !"

"Calm down, Corvus."

"Ahoy there!" Bagman called to the Weasleys. He felt nothing but spite for his mother at the moment.

"Blimey, look…" he heard one of the twins say. All the Weasley members that knew them from Hogwarts had their beady ginger eyes on him and Max. He looked to his friend; his mouth was slightly twisted into an uncomfortable grimace. Obviously this didn't sit well with him either.

Max always disliked the twins – there'd been enough times during a night run when the Salesmen would run into Fred and George Weasley. Pranks would ensue, hexes would be thrown at both parties and some times someone was caught by Filch. Corvus felt their spars with the twins were more for fun, it added more excitement to their regular rule breaking. Plus, the twins were regular customers of theirs. Still, Max found them annoying.

Leandra whispered in his ear, "Five minutes."

He inwardly groaned and dragged his feet as much as possible, even digging his feet into the earth. Bagman reached the campfire first, oblivious to what torture this was.

"Arthur, old man," puffed Bagman.

Arthur Weasley got to his feet the moment he'd spotted Bagman. He was a tall, thin and balding man. It was disturbing to see the resemblance amongst them all.

Why? _Why_ did his mother insist on putting him through this? Leandra practically carried Corvus over to stand next to her. She let go of his arm, and at once he crossed his arms moodily.

"What a day, eh?" grinned Bagman. "What a day! Could we have asked for more perfect weather? A cloudless night coming… and hardly a hiccough in the arrangements… not much for me to do!"

Corvus noticed a group of haggard-looking Ministry wizards rush past. They were pointing at the distant evidence of some sort of magical fire that was sending violent sparks twenty feet into the air.

His attention was brought back when he noticed a Weasley had hurried forward at them. It was Percy Weasley, with his hand stretched out to shake hands with Bagman and Leandra.

"It is a _pleasure_ Ms. Black, truly a pleasure."

"Please… no need to be… so kind…"

"Ah – yes," said Mr. Weasley, grinning, "this is my son, Percy, he's just started at the Ministry – and this is Fred – no, George, sorry – _that's _Fred – Bill, Charlie, Ron – my daughter, Ginny," as he introduced his herd of children, Corvus stared upwards at a flock of birds going by. Max's eyes were glued to his shoes, " –and Ron's friends Hermione Granger and Harry Potter."

At Potter's name, Leandra smiled. It dawned on Corvus _why_ his mother wanted to meet them all. _Whatever's dear to Sirius is dear to her too now… _

"Everyone," Mr Weasley continued, "this is Ludo Bagman, you know who he is, it's thanks to him we've got such good tickets – "

Bagman waved his hands as if to say it had been nothing. "You don't mind if we take a rest, do you, Leandra?" Bagman asked as he sat down with the Weasley family.

"Oh of course not," she assured him, and to Corvus's horror she sat down too. "We can do with a rest, right boys?"

"I really need to go find –"

"_Corvus_," she gave him a pointed look and patted the ground next to her. He looked over at Max, who surrendered first and sat down. This meant Corvus had to too.

"Fancy a flutter on the match, Arthur?" Bagman asked, jingling what seemed to be a large amount of gold in the pockets of his yellow and black robes. "I've already got Roddy Pontner betting me Bulgaria will score first – I offered him nice odds, considering Ireland's front three are the strongest I've seen in years – and little Agatha Timms has put up half shares in her eel farm on a week-long match."

"Oh… go on, then," said Mr. Weasley. "Let's see… a Galleon on Ireland to win?"

"A Galleon?" Bagman looked slightly disappointed. Corvus couldn't help but cough suspiciously, smirking cruelly. "Very well, very well… how about you, Leandra?"

She laughed at the offer. "I don't gamble, at least not on Quidditch," she said, winking playfully to Potter. "Now _dog _racing, that's another story."

"Oh please," said Corvus under his breath.

"Any other takers?" Bagman asked.

"They're a bit young to be gambling. Molly wouldn't like - "

"We'll bet thirty-seven Galleons, fifteen Sickles, three Knuts," said one of the twins. They quickly pooled their money together. Corvus arched an eyebrow, discreetly glancing at Max. A Weasley throwing around numbers like that? Interesting. "That Ireland win – but Viktor Krum gets the Snitch."

Coco squealed happily. Everyone gave her a bewildered stare, which she didn't notice. "Oh! That is so wise! Viktor Krum is the best Seeker! Coco makes the same bet!"

"No, Coco," Leandra told her sharply. "You've already spent your allowance this month, and really, I must draw the line somewhere with you and Quidditch." Coco's bottom lip trembled.

"You give your House-elf an allowance?" Granger asked, amazed. Corvus had forgotten how irritating her voice was.

"Yes, otherwise she tries sowing her own Quidditch jerseys," smiled Leandra. "It's quite sore for the eyes."

"Oh, and we'll throw in a fake wand," a twin said, returning to the business at hand.

"You don't want to go showing Mr. Bagman rubbish like that – " hissed Percy Weasley. But Bagman roared with laughter when he took the wand and it gave a great squawk, turning into a rubber chicken.

"Boys," said Mr. Weasley under his breath, "I don't want you betting… that's all your savings… your mother – "

"Don't be a spoilsport, Arthur!"

"Ludo, if it's their _savings_," Leandra tried to rationalize. "Really, they don't even look of age - "

"They're old enough to know what they want! You reckon Ireland will win but Krum'll get the Snitch? Not a chance, boys, not a chance - "

"There is chances!" squeaked Coco.

"I'll give you excellent odds on that one," Bagman continued. "We'll add five Galleons for the funny wand, then, shall we…" Bagman whipped out a notebook and quill and began jotting down the twins' names.

"Cheers," said a twin, taking the slip of parchment Bagman handed him and tucking it away into the front of his robes.

"Couldn't do us a brew, I suppose? We're keeping an eye out for Barty Crouch. My Bulgarian opposite number's making difficulties, and I can't understand a word he's saying."

"It might be about making adjustments to the Top Box," Corvus's mother said. She rolled her eyes, "Top Box viewers never cease to complain. Best bloody seats in the house, but no appeasement…"

"Barty'll be able to sort it out," Bagman said. "He speaks about a hundred and fifty languages."

"Mr Crouch?" said Percy Weasley. "He speaks over two hundred! Mermish and Gobbledegook and Troll…"

"Anyone can speak Troll," said a twin dismissively. "All you have to do it point and grunt…"

Corvus nearly laughed at this, the humor of it really stemmed from how furious Percy Weasley looked. He threw his brothers an extremely nasty look, and stoked the fire vigorously to bring the kettle back to a boil.

"Any news of Bertha Jorkins yet, Ludo?" asked Mr. Weasley.

"Not a dicky bird," he said comfortably. "But she'll turn up. Poor old Bertha… memory like a leaky cauldron and no sense of direction. Lost, you take my word for it. She'll wander back into the office some time in October, thinking it's still July."

"You don't think it might be time to send someone to look for her?" Mr. Weasley suggested tentatively as Percy handed Bagman his tea.

"Do you want tea too?" asked Ginny Weasley.

Corvus blinked, surprised to be addressed by any of them. He'd never spoken to the girl Weasley before – not that he could remember. She was giving him a funny looking, smiling at him and forcing him into eye-contact…

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

"_Really?_"

"I said no and meant it."

Her smile was invincible though. She turned to Max, same look on her face. "Do _you_ want tea?"

Max shook his head.

"Are _you_ sure?"

Corvus realized what was going on. The twins were silently shaking, hiding their suppressed laughter behind their cups of tea. Of course… she was purposely antagonizing them…

"I'll have some tea," his mother said, smiling knowingly. The girl Weasley went about fixing her a cup.

"Barty Crouch keeps saying that," said Bagman, still oblivious. "But we really can't spare anyone at the moment. Oh – talk of the devil! Barty!"

Barty Crouch had just Apparated at the fireside. Crouch was a stiff, upright, elderly man. He was expertly dressed as a Muggle, he wore a crisp suit and tie. The parting in his short grey hair was critically straight and his narrow toothbrush moustache looked as though he trimmed it with perfect precision.

"Pull up a bit of grass, Barty," said Bagman brightly.

"No thank you, Ludo," said Crouch, there was tinge of impatience in his voice. "I've been looking for you everywhere."

"Hello, Barty," greeted Leandra. "How are you?"

"Alright, but the Bulgarians are insisting we add another twelve seats to the Top Box."

"We thought it had something to do with that," she sighed.

"I thought the chap was asking to borrow a pair of tweezers," said Bagman. "Bit of a strong accent."

"Mr. Crouch!" said Percy Weasley breathlessly. "Would you like a cup of tea?"

"Oh," said Mr. Crouch, looking over the Weasley in mild surprise. "Yes – thank you, Weatherby."

Max blurted a laugh but tried to hide it behind a cough. Percy Weasley busied himself with the kettle, very pink around his ears.

"Oh, and I've been wanting a word with you too, Aurther," said Mr. Crouch, his sharp eyes falling upon Mr. Weasley. "Ali Bashir's on the warpath. He wants a word with oyu about your embargo on flying carpets."

Mr. Weasley sighed heavily, "I sent him an owl about that just last week. If I've told him once I've told him a hundred times: carpets are defined as Muggle Artefact by the Registry of Proscribed Charmable Objects, but will he listen?"

"I doubt it," said Mr. Crouch, accept a cup of tea from 'Weatherby.' "He's desperate to export here."

"Well, they'll never replace brooms in Britain, will they?" said Bagman.

"Ali thinks there's a niche in the market for a family vihicle," said Mr. Crouch. "I remember my grandfather had an Axminister that could seat twelve – but that was before carpets were banned, of course."

"Of course," repeated Leandra, smirking slightly.

"So, been keeping busy Barty?" said Bagman breezily.

"Fairly. Organizing Portkeys across five continents is no mean feat, Ludo."

"I expect you'll both be glad when this over?" said Mr. Weasley.

"Glad!" repeated Bagman, shocked, "Don't know when I've had more fun. And wonderful friendships were built through this, eh, Leandra?"

"Terribly wonderful," she concurred, though Corvus noted the sarcasm.

"Still," Bagman said, "it's not as though we haven't got anything to look forward to, eh, Barty? Eh? Plenty left to organize, eh?"

Crouch raised his eyebrow at Bagman, "We agreed not to make announcements until all the details - "

"Details! They've signed, haven't they? They've agreed, haven't they? I bet you anything these kids'll know soon enough anyway. I mean it happening at Hogwarts - "

Leandra looked to Corvus and Max. There was a mischievous look in her eyes, the two boys smirked back at her.

"Ludo, we need to meet the Bulgarians, you know," said Crouch sharply, cutting Bagman's remarks short. "Thank you for the tea, Weatherby."

Crouch returned his tea to Percy Weasley and waited for Ludo and Leandra to get to their feet.

His mother leaned over to Corvus and Max. "You boys can go now, I suppose that was enough torture for now," she whispered.

She got to her feet easily while Bagman struggled, "Come Coco, you'll like seeing the stadium before the match, won't you?"

"Oh thank you, thank you, Lady Leandra!" Coco quickly rushed to take Leandra's hand.

"See you all later," Bagman waved to the Weasleys. "We'll all be up in the Top Box together – with me commentating!"

His mother gave them all a final smile and Crouch nodded curtly. Then they Disapparated. In the blink of an eye, Max was on his feet. "Come on Blackstone," he urged.

"What's happening at Hogwarts, Dad?" said a twin. "What were they talking about?"

"You'll find out soon enough," smiled Mr. Weasley.

"It's classified information, until such time as the Ministry decides to release it," said Percy Weasley stiffly. "Mr. Crouch was quite right not to disclose it."

"Oh, shut up Weatherby."

Corvus got up and brushed himself off. The girl Weasley pointed at him. "You know what's happening, don't you?"

"Haven't a clue," he replied with a sneering face. He couldn't completely dismiss her question, not in front of her father. "Good bye."

He turned away from them. Max had already put some distance between him and the Weasley family. He wanted to get on with their own plans for the day, Corvus did too, even if that meant they'd have to blindly trek through the entire campsite looking for Louis.

However, he'd barely taken a step before the twins appeared before him, blocking his way. Corvus couldn't believe they'd try to provoke him in front of Mr. Weasley, but he was prepared to start anyway. His hand went to his wand in his pocket.

"Woah!" one of them raised their hands. "Take it easy, Black, we aren't here for that."

"Really?"

"Yeah, we've got something to talk to you about," his brother said in a hushed tone. "Something that's got good potential for both our parties."

Corvus frowned and beckoned for Max to come over. One of the twin's fished a folded up piece of parchment from his pocket.

"We've been thinking up of some merchandise that could really sell at a place like Hogwarts." He unfolded it and showed it to Corvus.

"_Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes?_" Corvus read out loud. Both twins flinched and hissed for him to keep his voice down, looking over at their father. Max read with Corvus, it was a price-list of things, joke stuff, like fake wands, trick sweets…

"We've got a few prototypes going, but we'll need a broader supply source than what we've got now…"

"You two know this isn't how it's done," said Max. He took the parchment from Corvus and handed it back to them.

"Right, you're looking for Sal's Guys and you know to go through the motions for that."

The Weasley twins looked disappointed, "Alright, but you get how this would be a good investment for you lot too?"

"For us? Haven't a clue what you're talking about, we're not the Salesmen," Corvus told them with a grin. The twins rolled their eyes but finally stepped aside for them to pass.

Once they'd left the twins behind, Corvus whispered to Max, "What do you think?"

"If they don't lose what little money they have or what on this match," he replied coolly, "It'd be feasible."

"Agreed," he nodded. "Should we go back to that Muggle and ask _him_ where Louis's tent is?"

"Actually… I thought Cho might know."

Corvus grinned at him. He was about to tease his friend about his 'good friend' when a spangled banner caught his attention a few tents down towards the woods. It was pure luck that he turned to look, because when he did, he found a boy with light, feathery blonde hair laughing with a group of teenage girls.

It was Louis Vaisey.

They were sitting beneath the spangled banner. It read _The Salem Witches' Institute_, and it was stretched between two tents. The girls appeared to be in constant giggles. Louis's dazzling blue eyes jumped from one girl to the next as he spun some tale. His playful stare rested on each girl just long enough to make her blush.

Louis had always been a social butterfly. Good-looking and funny, people naturally were drawn to him. Every piece of gossip floating around Hogwarts went through him first, especially in Slytherin. It was good to have an ear out for school gossip; it helped the Salesmen understand what the demand was and what the supply needed to be.

"Figures," muttered Max as they came over.

"I'm being honest, come on," Louis was saying with a devilish smile. "Why would I go lying to you? I admit, yeah, my lost friends are convenient for me. I get to come and talk with you birds. A lovely way to start off the day, it is."

"Is that your silver linin'?" one girl asked him, giggling again.

"'Course you're my silver lining," he told her. "I adore my American friends – Oi! There they are!"

Corvus and Max were practically standing over them. Louis jumped to his feet. Standing he measured a half a head shorter than Corvus. Slytherin's best Chaser, Louis had an athletic build to top off his Veela-good looks.

"Ladies, allow me to introduce Corvus and Max, who were up to this point, lost," he said charmingly.

"Hi!" they sang as one.

"Anyway, remember! After the match tonight, I want you girls sneaking away from those hags and come find me," he winked at them. The girls promised they'd do exactly that.

As they walked away Corvus could hear their giggles for a long time.

"So those are your American friends?" asked Max, grinning sheepishly.

Louis laughed. "American girls are delightful. You don't have to do anything, just '_talk in dat super cute accent!_'"

"You're not thinking about leaving us to move to America, are you?" asked Corvus. They walked back in the direction of the gates.

"Tempting, it is," he said. "If it's full of girls like them – they've got exotic names like Kelly, Kimmie and Sarah – actually Sarah's common here too."

They laughed. Corvus always marveled at how easily Louis navigated through girls.

"By the way," Louis said, "it's best you don't mention Luxembourg losing to Bulgaria in the semi-finals. Jean-Luc plays as a Chaser for them, and well, he's taking the lost pretty bad – are you wearing red, anywhere? Red's Bulgarian colors…"

Corvus gave himself a look over. "No, no red."

"We'll need to get you something green then, to be on the safe side."

"How's your sister taking their lost?"

"I actually think Siobhan is relieved Luxembourg's out of the running," Louis chuckled. "She's one of the Healers for the tournament, and there's been loads of injuries. For her, the more teams bumped out of the Championships, the better – Here we are!" he presented loudly.

The three-story tent with the many turrets they'd seen early was before them.

"You know, we bought this from the Stirling Tower," he said to Corvus.

"Aren't you worried Mr. Roberts is going to see this?" asked Max.

"Nah, there's loads of Ministry chaps running around," he told him. "All they have to do is use a Obliviator swipe on the Muggle, and it's fixed."

Max didn't look pleased with that. Corvus studied the tent. There were five towers and leaning out of the topmost window of one tower was Claire Vaisey. She had a large camera in her hands and she was taking pictures of something.

"Oi! Claire!" Louis shouted.

She put her camera down, smiling brightly. Her light blonde hair was pinned up and her face was bare from make-up, but she didn't need it. She was graceful and beautiful, equaling her younger brother's looks easily.

"_Corvus!"_ she exclaimed eagerly. She looked into her room, "Anna, where is she? _Corvus is here!" _

"What are you doing?" Corvus asked. She fixed him with a mischievous smirk reminiscent of Louis's.

"The magazine wants me to take some shots of the campsites," she told him. Her eyes sparkled, "But _then _I found Claude getting his head bitten off by his boss!"

She pointed out their cousin Claude standing further down the row of tents before a man with what appeared to be horns on top of his head.

Claude was also part-Veela. The sway Louis held over girls at Hogwarts was nothing compared to what Claude had. There was a raw, edgy feel to Claude's good looks. His eyes were a darker blue, giving him an intense stormy stare. Corvus remembered watching him in the Great Hall multiple times luring girls to him from across distances.

But right now he wasn't trying to lure anyone, he was looking down at his feet while the man with the horns wagged his finger at him, yelling till his face turned red.

"Claude works in the Committee on Experimental Charms," Louis explained, snickering. "That's his boss, Gilbert Wimple."

"What's he getting in trouble for?" asked Corvus.

"Remember that charm he taught us at the end of our second year? His 'stop-hitting-yourself' charm?"

"Sure. We used it on first-years."

"Well, he used it last night on like a group of six people," Louis laughed. "Problem was that Muggle by the gates saw it."

"Actually it was his kid who saw it," corrected Claire nonchalantly. Max's eyes narrowed.

"Whatever," said Louis. "It was funny though. Claude made this great, whale of a man cry like a girl. His voice got all high and shaky, right Claire?"

She laughed, her laugh sounded like little silver bells. Suddenly she turned to look back in her room. There was a noise of something falling over and a few thumping footsteps. Finally Claire moved over to make space at the window for two more girls.

Anna Vaisey appeared, looking a little breathless. She was as beautiful too, though she always carried herself like a veteran athlete. She played Keeper for the Falmouth Falcons. She kept her hair short, so no one could try grabbing it while in play. "Look who's finally here," she grinned pulling someone else into the window frame.

It was Daphne Greengrass, the newest member of the Salesmen and their only girl.

After they'd gotten rid of Jeremy Petzold, the thought of finding a replacement hadn't crossed any of their minds. It was pure dumb luck that they found Daphne – actually it was Corvus who stumbled upon her last school year. He found her in one of the greenhouses while he was searching for clues about Sirius's whereabouts.

Herbology was a family business for the Greengrass's and while the Salesmen did have a middleman in Hogsmeade who got the herbs and whatnot they needed for potions, having Daphne would save them money and time. Initially the Salesmen only wanted to set up a trading agreement with her. But she flat out refused to be their one-stop-shop – she wanted to be more than that.

"Hey, Daphne," he waved. Corvus was happy to see that Louis's sisters had taken a liking to was a year below them. She had thick, golden blonde hair and brown eyes.

"Hi…"

"We've missed you terribly, _Corey_," cooed Anna. The Vaisey sisters laughed wickedly. _Corey_ was the horrible nickname MacDougal had used for Corvus while they were dating. He hit Louis on the shoulder.

"Oi! I didn't tell them!" Louis told him, then laughed and pointed up at Daphne. "She did."

Corvus's jaw dropped. She blushed.

"Did Louis tell you?" Claire redirected the attention once they'd settled down. She boasted haughtily, "Aiden Lynch - Ireland's Seeker – wants to take me out after they win the Championships. Says the trophy can't possibly shine as brightly as my smile. Isn't that the cutest line you've ever heard?"

The sisters burst into another round of laughs.

"They met when he crashed into the press box," Louis scoffed.

"And I've decided that I'm going to get Daphne here a Quidditch boy as well," Claire continued, holding up a strand of Daphne's hair. "What do _you _think we should do with her hair?"

Corvus shrugged.

"I'm glad you boys have a girl in on your little club now," said Anna haughtily. "A woman's touch is invaluable – I mean if it weren't for me and Claire promoting you lot to everyone your first year –"

"We talked to Stan Shunepike even!"

They both shuddered. Anna had been in her seventh year and Claire in her sixth when the Salesmen first began. At the beginning there were no contacts, they were too small then for that. Only people in Slytherin knew what they were doing, word didn't start to spread to other Houses until later and it was thanks to Claire and Anna. The Vaisey girls were natural-born trendsetters.

"Of course Daphne's going to help you boys in other ways," grinned Anna, "But nevertheless – it's important to remember how invaluable a woman's –"

Before Anna could finish her sentence, there was a soul-wrenching scream from within one of the other towers. Corvus imagined he saw the entire tent shudder from it. Everyone except for Corvus and Max went rigid.

"What's wrong?"

"Margaux," Louis breathed. "We woke her up."

**X  
X**

Leandra was quite proud of herself. She stood in the Top Box, looking out at the empty stadium. It was massive with golden walls surrounding the long oval pitch. Thousands of seats rose in levels around, and in the Top Box there were twenty-three purple and gilt chairs set in two rows. It was situated exactly halfway between the golden goalposts. Everything was suffused with a golden light that came from stadium itself, radiating strength and power.

Coco sat in her seat close to the middle of the front row, panting from her sheer excitement that morning. Ludo and Barty Crouch had left with the Bulgarian diplomat after the extra seats had been added. "This – is – so – so – Coco never seen – so much – prettiness," her house-elf complimented.

"Thank you, Coco," she took the seat next to her House-elf. She stared at the gigantic blackboard across the pitch from them flashing advertisements. "I wish he could be here for this, a Quidditch World Cup could really do him good," she smiled faintly.

"You speaking about Master Sirius?"

"_Coco." _

"Sorry – Master Padfoot?"

Leandra nodded.

"But we buy Master Padfoot souvenir, right?"

"Yes, of course we will."

There was a noise from the Top Box's entrance. Leandra turned, slightly alarmed that someone might've heard Coco say Sirius's name. It wasn't anybody though. It was a tiny house-elf with enormous brown eyes and a nose the size and shape of a large tomato. She had her face covered with both her hands.

"Hello!" Coco waved. The other elf quickly waved back so she could properly cover her face again. Leandra frowned, this was curious to say the least.

"Who do you belong to?" asked Leandra.

"Master – Master Crouch, I is his House-elf Winky," she squeaked. "Master wants me to save him a seat… Winky wishes she is back in master's tent, but Winky is a good House-elf… I does what she is told…"

Leandra didn't ask any more questions because right then, as if queued, Barty Crouch himself entered the Top Box, followed my Penelope.

"Winky," he said sharply. "Good you're here."

"Hours before the match, are you really that scared the Bulgarians are going to cadge your seats?" smirked Leandra, standing up.

"I have matters to take care of before the match, there is no telling when I'll be able to tear myself away from them."

"That's the saddest thing I've heard all day," she told him. "I plan on being nothing but free before the match. In fact, Penelope you can take the rest of the afternoon off, just collect Corvus and Max an hour before they set off the gongs so we can arrive together."

Penelope gave a wide smile, though you could easily tell she was exhausted behind it. "Thank you, Miss Leandra."

She waited for Leandra at the Top Box's entrance. Leandra past by Winky and felt something in her hair. But when she brought her hand up to touch it, there was nothing there.

_Huh, must've been the wind_

_

* * *

_

...

...

Viola! Louis is back! And so is Daphne! Next chapter we meet the rest of Louis's sisters and it's the Quidditch World Cup!A lot from this chapter and the next few chapters come straight from the book, so... praise be to JK Rowling.I'm sorry to say but next update won't be until Tuesday, I'm very busy these next few days :(

R&R pls!


	5. In the World Cup's Shadow

**In the World Cup's Shadow  
**

An argument was quickly escalating above when Louis quietly led Max and Corvus into his family's tent. Inside it was spacious with wooden floors, high ceiling and plenty of windows to let in the soft morning light. Mrs. Vaisey had decorated the rooms in white and crème colors. It was calming, but clearly it wasn't helping what was going on upstairs.

Corvus and Max both flinched when it sounded like something had been thrown down the stairs. There was a high-pitched squeal and lots of cursing in both French and English. Louis beckoned for them to follow him into the kitchen, where Louis's oldest sister, Siobhan sat at a small round table alone reading a book.

"You'd think Claire would be smarter," she sighed. She had the longest length of hair of her sisters and she usually wore a calm expression. Corvus had met her once before, very briefly. "She's been living with Margaux in Paris for nearly two years. Hello, Corvus, Max, how are you?"

"Good thanks," replied Corvus.

"How about you?"

"Fine," she said. "Neither of you have met Margaux, correct?"

They shook their heads. Siobhan smirked faintly, and there was a glimmer in her light blue eyes that told she could be just as cheeky as her younger siblings.

"Where's Jean-Luc?" Louis asked as he sat down across from his sister. There was a bowl of black cherries that he immediately started digging into.

"He went to fetch water."

"Where's mum? Did she already cook breakfast?"

"You never listen do you?"

Louis frowned, his mouth too full with cherries to ask what she meant by this.

"Mother and father are having breakfast with Madam Maxime and a few other Beauxbatons alumni," she scowled at him. "Jean-Luc will cook for us."

Louis made a horrified face. "He's rubbish at cooking."

"Shut up, Louis," she snapped. "Jean-Luc's finally over Luxembourg's lost. And you criticizing him is just going to cause a relapse."

Louis rolled his eyes, "Whatever. I guarantee you, Anwar won't stand for this."

"Where _is _Anwar?" asked Corvus.

"He was asleep when I left to find you two," he said, still glaring at Siobhan.

A door slammed upstairs. Corvus listened as several footsteps hurried down and in the next moment, Anna, Claire and Daphne were in the kitchen. The two Vaisey sisters were panting.

"_She is a beast_," Anna breathed, collapsing into the seat between Max and Siobhan. "She just threw a glass vase at my head, do you believe that?"

"You caught it though," said Daphne. Now that they were in the same room, Corvus observed some changes in her appearance he hadn't seen before. He'd never given her looks much thought, especially not since she was a fellow Salesman now, but she was different. She was wider, and it wasn't just the loose fitted Ireland shirt she was wearing. He didn't think her fat or revolting, it was just something he couldn't help but notice.

"Of course I caught it – I'd have to be a horrid Keeper to miss it," she replied. "I don't play for the Chudley Cannons, Daphne."

Louis snorted.

"They haven't met M.V. yet," Siobhan told them as she picked up a cherry.

"Oh well, hasn't she made quite the first impression then?" laughed Claire.

"Don't worry," said Daphne with a small smile. "She won't try to attack you, she only goes after them. She'll be nice to you."

"Count your lucky stars," muttered Louis. "Yesterday she nearly hexed my nose off because I asked if she'd let me use the loo – she's in there for days."

"That's M.V. for you," sighed Anna.

"You call her M.V.?" asked Corvus. "Why?"

"_She _insists we call her that," she told him.

"It's the name of her label or what," said Max simply. Corvus looked to him, his friend gave a shrug, "Louis's told us loads of time, Blackstone, she's a fashion designer."

That was true, he had told Corvus this before. Louis's father designed for the Nimbus Racing Broom Company, his children grew up surrounded by Quidditch and sports. All of their careers veered towards it, even Claire who was a sports photographer for a French magazine. But Margaux went in a totally different direction. She was a fashion designer. _Witch Weekly _dubbed her the new up-and-coming designer of the year.

The door to the kitchen opened, and for a moment everyone turned expectantly, but it was Anwar. He was a short and stocky boy with olive skin and jet-black hair that stood straight up in pointed spikes, as if he'd been electrified.

Anwar quite possibly frightened the most people outside of the Salesmen. He hardly ever cracked a smile, and when he did it was always cruel. Not a lot of people besides the Salesmen dared to speak to him, and he liked it that way. He claimed that people annoyed him. As someone who knew Anwar, Corvus felt he was one of the most honest and reliable people in the world. And he enjoyed Anwar's dry sense of humor.

He gave a huge yawn. "They found you then?"

"_We_ found Louis," said Max.

"Were you worried about us, Anwar?"

"Couldn't sleep all night," he said dully as he sat down across from him. Corvus realized that at the beginning they were sitting at a small round table, but it had expanded to accommodate to their numbers. "How was your vacation?" he asked them.

"Lovely," Corvus said as Max shrugged again.

"You look so brown," Claire noted, leaning in to look at Corvus better. "Does your eyes wonders… doesn't it Daphne?"

"I guess," she answered quietly.

"Remember Anna, we always said he'd grow up handsome."

Anna nodded, "And we also predicted that the other one – Petzold?"

"Pretzel," corrected Anwar flatly. The boys sniggered.

"Whatever, we knew he was going to be chucked."

"Yeah that ugly twat was cramping your style, lads," a smooth voice said from the hallway. It was Claude, grinning cheekily. "Cheers."

"You're not fired, I take it," said Siobhan.

"Nope – I live to see another day as a Ministry employee."

"I knew it," said Louis. Claude conjured a chair out of thin air and pulled it up next to his little cousin. "Your boss loves you. He's always taking you out, buying you drinks…"

"That's because he's just got divorced, he needs a wingman," he said in a bored tone. He tossed back his head to move his blonde hair away from his stormy eyes. "My reputation precedes me."

"Please, I want to salvage my appetite for breakfast," drawled Siobhan. Everyone at the table chuckled, except for Daphne who gave a strange high-pitched giggle. Corvus looked at her, the giggle seemed to've surprised her just as it did him. Her face went bright red.

"Morning Miss Greengrass," purred Claude. His eyes moved over her slowly and the signature Vaisey smirk crept onto his face. Daphne squirmed in her seat.

"Stop doing that!" barked Anna, hitting Claude over the back of his head.

"You're six years older than her," Siobhan reminded him. "Is that what you've become Claude, a cradle robber?"

"Only if Daphne lets me," he said silkily.

"Oh Merlin," groaned Daphne, hiding her face behind her hands. Corvus laughed.

"You're setting a horrible example for these boys," said Claire. "That adorable Milvina Fox left Louis because he flirts like there's no tomorrow. It's _your_ fault."

"We didn't break up because I flirted too much," snapped Louis, suddenly very moody. "We were fighting too much, neither of us wanted to keep up with it."

"You flirted too much," said Siobhan.

"You did," concurred Anwar.

"There were other problems! Like her not coming out for the World Championships, as if I was going to miss matches to go visit her. She was bloody emotional too, she was. Like dating a broken water faucet it was."

"Ah, don't worry, Lu," said Claude. "Now you're a free agent. Next time – don't get tied down. It's never smart to go exclusive, unless you're certain there's nothing better out there."

"Don't listen to Claude, he's afraid of love."

Her voice drifted in before she appeared in the doorway. There were streams of green-tinged smoke curling before her face. Even without the smoke, you didn't see much of her face. Her light blonde hair was cut so she had a thick, straight fringe ending at her eyebrows. The rest of it was in complete disarray. She wore large, round sunglasses. All Corvus could really see was her red-pained lips.

Something looking like a cigarette was held between her lips, but its filter was purple and it was emitting that green smoke.

She wore a royal-blue robe that was extremely short. It stopped at the middle of her thighs. Corvus was amazed by how long and thin her legs were. She wore golden sandals with straps that tied all the way to her knees. While the robe was short for her legs, the sleeves reached the wrists of her willowy arms. The only thing was that the skirt and the sleeves of the robe were artistically torn and cut. It was like she rolled out of a fierce fight.

"Margaux!" Claude turned to her, "Always such great timing."

Margaux didn't reply with words. She took a long drag from her cigarette; it was like there was no limit to her lung capacity. Then she steadily exhaled, the smoke billowing all around her.

"How can you smoke that? You _just _woke up!" said Siobhan, her lip curled.

"Are you Corvus?" she asked behind the wall of smoke.

"Yes," he shifted a little in his seat.

"I'm a fan of your mother's."

"Huh, thanks."

"Don't thank me, I've done nothing for your good."

Corvus blinked. Margaux moved through her wall of smoke and pulled out a very long, spiraled wand. A chair, far more impressive looking than Claude's, _popped_ into existence. She sat down. Corvus worried that she wouldn't be able to pull it off with a robe that short, but she did, impossibly gracefully too.

"I need your measurements," she said. Her head turned steadily, probably eying everyone at the table. "All of you, going to Hogwarts this year."

Louis gave his sister a ridiculous look, "For _what?"_

"You've been required to have dress robes."

"How did you kno – Did you read my mail?" asked Louis, indignantly.

Margaux took a long drag from her cigarette-thing. She was completely unperturbed by Louis's accusation. She blew out another lung full of smoke, "I decided, _I_ will design your dress robes. It will be… _magnifique_."

"Oh," said Max, cautiously. He exchanged looks with Corvus. "Corvus and me got ours already, yesterday at Madam –"

"You bought rags," she cut him off in the same soft and measured voice. "After you've worn my creations, your skin will ache when touched by anything else."

Claire cleared her throat loudly. This seemed to click with Daphne immediately. She stammered, "Thanks, M.V. Sounds wicked."

She didn't make any reply. She just sat there, hidden by her veil of smoke with her cigarette slanted between her long fingers. There was a lengthy pause.

"_Anyway_," Louis broke the silence, "Where's Jean-Luc? I'm hungry."

"I'm 'ere!" a male voice shouted. There was a clanking of tin buckets filled with water, they were moving through the air to the kitchen, in followed a black wizard with green dyed hair.

Siobhan gasped. "What did you do to your _hair?" _

"Itz fur Ireland!"

Siobhan said something in rapid French, but Jean-Luc gave a dismissive wave of his hand and hissed.

"I vill get rid ov it tomorrow!"

Louis banged his hand on the tabletop. "I'm hungry!"

**X  
X**

After breakfast the Salesmen to gathered for an official meeting. They went upstairs to Louis's room that he shared with Anwar. It was very large with two four-poster beds for each of them. Corvus could tell that before the games started this room had been bare, because now it was packed with Quidditch memorabilia from all the matches Louis attended.

"Too bad you lot couldn't be here for the whole championship," said Louis as he watched his miniature Firebolts fly in circles over him as he lay on top of his bed. "There were some _good _games – Anwar, or Daphne will tell you and they've only been here since the semi-finals."

"I had a laugh when England got slaughtered."

"Do you think we'll still have Quidditch even with the Triwizard Tournament?" asked Louis, but his question was forgotten as Daphne finally returned. She looked confident.

"I have an idea about a new item we can sell this year."

She had a rolled up copy of _Witch Weekly_. Corvus gave the magazine a dirty look. His ex-girlfriend Morag MacDougal had been a rabid fan of the magazine. Daphne opened it to marked page.

"Sorry, love, but we're not about to craft cheap jewelry and accessories," Louis sneered.

"It's not that, I mean it's a bit about fashion, but it's different." Clearly Louis's remark disrupted her presentation, she got a little muddled, "They're getting really big now, Margaux's got them…"

She held up the magazine to show them a glossy spread of photographs. In every picture there were chic, beautiful and impressive looking people smoking what Margaux smoked during breakfast.

"Loads of people are starting to smoke these," she said. "It's been brought over from Morocco. They're called _Tentettes_, because you make them out of cured, finely cut tobacco leaves and Venomous Tentacula leaves, combined with other additives of course."

"Sounds like Muggle cigarettes," said Max.

"Yeah, I suppose they do," she agreed.

"Why haven't we ever thought about selling Muggle cigarettes?" Corvus interrupted. "They're addictive aren't they? Sounds like a good investment for us."

"That's true, I like the sound of that," smirked Louis. "Hey, Max, you can look into that, right?"

Max's eyes bore into Louis, as if his friend was trending dangerous grounds. Corvus took a deep breath. He hadn't revealed Max's parentage, but it made things suspicious. Daphne frowned, utterly confused. Finally Max replied, in his usual mild tone, "I'll see what I can do."

"You want us to sell these _Tentettes_ too," prompted Anwar, addressing Daphne.

"Right," she started again, "We can sell these too. Or even try and make our own, I mean on our farm we've got Venomous Tentacula so those leaves will be easy to get and Muggle cigarettes are cheap, I think. We can mix them up."

"Are they addictive?" asked Anwar.

"They're new so they don't know everything yet, but they're not deadly like the Muggle kind. After smoking them a lot your skin can turn purple. But then they say you just need to go off them until that goes away. And they do give you a burning sensation in your insides, but some think it's invigorating. There's a smell too, but some like it."

"Could you imagine the entire student body turning purple and smelly?" mused Louis.

"And payingus for it," Anwar finished that thought. Corvus snickered.

Max took the magazine from her. "They curb your appetite as well," he noted. "That'll fetch us a lot of female costumers."

"And we won't have any problem advertising them," she gestured to the magazine. "Half the job's been done for us."

"She's right," said Anwar bluntly. "And idiots read that magazine, so they'll bite."

"I read that magazine," said Daphne, softly.

"Well stop it, because it's for idiots."

Corvus snickered. "He's got a point."

"Can we go out now?" asked Louis. "There's a lot to do before the match."

"Actually, there's one more thing we need to discuss," said Max, closing the magazine calmly. His azure eyes landed on Corvus, who frowned, trying to remember what was left to say…

"Oh right, _that_."

"What?"

"I've been… made Prefect."

There was a heavy silence. Then Louis gave a very slow laugh. "Ha… ha… you're kidding right?"

Corvus shook his head. Max's lip twitched into his half-smirk, "I think you should start wearing the badge or what, so people can start believing it."

The rest of the Salesmen sputtered into laughter. Louis got up to pat him on the back.

"That is _amazing!_"

"What is that nutter thinking," wondered Anwar, "giving _you _that badge?"

"No idea."

"This is going to be the best year yet for the Salesmen," declared Louis. "I can feel it!"

**X  
X**

The campsite was brimming with excitement as the afternoon wore on. By dusk, even Max was grinning with anticipation like anyone else. As saleswizards Apparated every few feet, carry trays and pushing carts full of merchandise, Louis reminded them that it was important that they stocked up on Ireland gear.

"You really liked the Tentettes idea?" Daphne asked Corvus as she joined him by the collection of miniature Irish player figurines. He'd already bought a dancing shamrock hat.

"If I didn't I would've told you."

"Good, good," she smiled to herself. "I knew it was a good idea - Told you I'd be a great asset for Sal's Guys."

He arched an eyebrow, "This is just the fun part – the school year's not even begun yet."

"When are you guys going to stop trying to scare me? I hope it's not because you're scared I'll out shine you lot," she grinned at him. "In with the new, out with the old…"

He laughed.

"Oh! You should get one of those," she pointed over at a cart piled high with what looked like brass binoculars, except they were covered in all sorts of weird knobs and dials. "Omnioculars, they're great. We all have one."

"You're just full of bright ideas," he drawled as he went over to the cart.

"I knew I'd see you today," a voice suddenly said. Draco Malfoy was approaching the same cart. With him was his mother, Narcissa. "We're both in the Top Box too tonight. Special guests of the Minister, did you hear? Figured we'd run into each other there – Greengrass, what are you doing here?"

"Draco, don't be rude," Narcissa stepped up to stand closer to her son.

It'd been nearly a year since Corvus saw Draco's mother. Narcissa and Lucius were his godparents and when Leandra was taken into custody for suspicion of aiding Sirius's escape from Azakaban, Corvus was handed over to the Malfoys for a few days. It had been awkward, but not because they weren't hospitable.

Actually, Corvus felt he was on good terms with the Malfoy family. He knew it had a lot to do with being a Salesman, he was popular in Slytherin and known throughout Hogwarts. That impressed Draco, he'd spoken highly of Corvus to his parents long before it was discovered he was related to them. Plus, Corvus was a pureblood and rich like them.

"Hello, Mrs. Malfoy," he wasn't entirely sure how to address his godmother. Her lips slightly pulled into a smile.

"You've grown," she noted.

"_There you are!_"

Corvus turned around and saw Penelope hurrying towards him, wearing a Bulgarian scarf and a green rosette over her apprentice uniform. He assumed she was trying to get into the spirit of the match while maintaining neutrality. Either that or she was succumbing to Coco's fashion.

"Your mother wants us to get back to our tent now."

At the mention of Corvus's mother, Narcissa cleared her throat softly and placed a hand on Draco's shoulder. "Let's go, dear."

He watched them go for a moment before looking back at Penelope. Corvus didn't take too kindly to being bossed around by his mother's apprentice. "I'm shopping still."

Penelope huffed, "You can shop later."

"No I can't, the prices will be outrageous after the match."

"Corvus –_Please?_" She was looking anxious now. Corvus sighed. It wasn't funny anymore. Penelope was just too serious to joke around with.

"_Fine." _He quickly bought his Omnioculars. Penelope got Max. As they left, he couldn't help but wonder what great fun the other Salesmen would have at the Final Match with the Vaisey family.

**X  
X**

Their tent was on the edge of the woods. It was a tall, dark burgundy color, calling to mind the actual Stirling Tower. Over the flap leading inside was the family crest of a falcon soaring before a watchtower.

Leandra had changed into a casual black robe for the afternoon. Coco was taking a nap by her chair; she needed to replenish her energy for the match. Leandra sat outside in a lawn chair, her feet prodded up and she used her lap as a table to sketch a drawing of the campsite before her.

She thought a drawn picture of the event would be a nice gift to send Sirius, along with his countless World Cup merchandise she'd bought him. It been ages since the last time she drew just for the sake of drawing. She used to do it every day.

Without being able to stop herself, she thought back on her days at Hogwarts. She used to waste away the night in the Slytherin commons, doodling while Regulus kept her company. He was always with her and it felt nice knowing that.

Leandra sighed. Why did she feel guilty? They were her memories to indulge in. And for the past thirteen years she'd repressed _everything_, her memories, her identity, the truth basically. It was natural that it would take time to gain control again. Sirius understood that. He knew she loved him too.

"He doesn't even have a wall to hang this on," she said to herself. Talking out loud helped stifle all the jabber that went on in her head. She smiled, "But he'll like it."

There was a soft _pop_. A Ministry official had Apparated before her. Leandra discreetly closed up her drawing; she brought her feet back to the ground and sat up. Her eyebrow rose curiously, what did the Ministry need fixed now?

The Ministry official took a moment to gaze around in awe. He was young, possibly a fresh recruit straight from Hogwarts.

"Can I help you?" she asked after allowing him to soak up his surroundings. He jolted back to reality though. His eyes went wide as he noticed he'd been keeping the Madame Crafter waiting…

"Huh, sorry, I'm – I'm Francis."

"Okay, Francis, what do you want from me?" she asked slowly, resisting the urge to laugh at the rookie. This made him more nervous still.

"Oh Merlin, I've messed this up," he whimpered to himself.

"Just shake it off, Francis."

He seemed to take this as a direct order. He stood up straight then shook his limbs and head, looking like a doll made of wet noodles. Finally he went still again, and reported what he was sent to report, "A message was sent to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, through the Department of International Magical Cooperation –"

"Francis, please," she chuckled, "Get to the point."

"Oh, of – of course, Ms. Black," he stammered. "Huh, well – the message is in part, addressed to you. It's from Nurmengard."

The smile disappeared on her face. "This is about _him_?"

It seemed impossible, but Francis grew more nervous yet. "Y-yes, miss."

"Where's this message?" she demanded, standing up. Francis quickly grabbed a folded up piece of parchment from inside his robe. She snatched it from his shaking hands and read;

……………………………………………..  
CROSS-DEPARTMENT MEMO_  
Dept. Of Int'l Magical Cooperation_ to _Dept. Of Law Enforcement__  
Heather Scott_ to _Bernard Gooding_  
………………………………………………

Subject: _A. Stirling's Health _

Message: _It's come to our attention, by notification from the German Ministry of Magic and  
the medical staff at Nurmengard, that Ascanius Stirling's health's drastically failing. Healers  
are unsure what is causing his condition. They're predicting he's only got a few months left  
if they cannot find a cure. Officials at Nurmengard told that Stirling is requesting a visit  
from his remaining family members, Leandra and Corvus Black. He claims to be seeking  
forgiveness. _

She couldn't believe it. He wanted forgiveness? That was exactly what he said to lure their father into a trap that cost him his life. Though it'd been years since she last saw her brother, she remembered clearly the look in his crazed eyes. They were empty of compassion, of love… There was no way he'd regained his humanity.

"Francis tell them, a visit is absolutely out of the question," she told him coldly. The letter burst into flames in her hand, turning to dust and slipping through her fingers to the ground. Francis yelped.

"I – I was actually supposed to return that…"

**X  
X**

A deep, booming gong sounded somewhere beyond the woods, and green and red lanterns blazed into life in the trees, lighting a path to the pitch. Corvus could hear the sounds of thousands of people moving around them in the woods. Coco was skipping between Corvus and Max, her feverish excitement was infectious, and both boys were smiling. Penelope tried luring his mother into talking about business, but she told her over-eager apprentice to shut up and enjoy the event.

"You don't seem like _you _are," noted Corvus. His mother had been very quiet since they met up.

"Just - something's on my mind." She gave a strained smile, "Good news I'm steadily forgetting it."

People were shutting and laughing. Some were even singing. They emerged at last on the other side and found themselves in the shadow of the gigantic stadium. Corvus was awestruck.

"Seats a hundred thousand," Penelope told him, spotting the look on his face.

"Not too shabby."

"Yeah, it's wicked," agreed Max.

She wrapped her arm around Corvus's shoulder. "I'm happy you like it – Penelope our tickets?"

Penelope quickly pulled out their tickets as the approached the nearest entrance, which was already surrounded by a swarm of shouting witches and wizards.

"Prime seats!" said the Ministry witch at the entrance when she checked their tickets. "Straight upstairs –"

"Hmm, we _know_ where our seats are, thank you," sniped Penelope smugly. The witch glared at her but then noticed Leandra standing behind her. She nodded quickly and blushed a little.

They climbed upwards into the stadium with the rest of the guests. The stairs were carpeted in rich purple. Slowly people started to filter away through doors into the stands to the left and right. Corvus and them kept climbing though, and at last they reached the top of the staircase.

He marveled at the impressive view from the Top Box. Even seeing Potter and the Weasley family seated in the front row didn't bother him as much. Corvus sauntered over to the front row and looked down as a hundred thousand witches and wizards were taking their places in the seats.

"Louis's missing out," remarked Max. He was right, no matter how much fun their friends were having, they didn't have a view like this.

They sat down close to the middle of the front row. Percy Weasley again jumped up to shake hands with Leandra. This time though Penelope was there, Percy's ex-girlfriend, so he didn't linger to smooze.

When Cornelius Fudge arrived, Percy Weasley bowed so low that his glasses fell off and shattered. Corvus burst out laughing. The idiot repaired them with his wand and thereafter remained in his seat, throwing Potter jealous looks since Fudge treated him like an old friend.

"Harry Potter, you know," he loudly told the Bulgarian Minister, who was wearing splendid robes of black velvet trimmed with gold and didn't seem to understand a word of English. "_Harry Potter_… oh, come on now, you know who he is… the boy who survived You-Know-Who… you _do _know who he is –"

Leandra laughed beside Corvus, they exchanged looks. "I could've sworn I heard him speaking English to a vendor outside," she whispered and nodded towards the Bulgarian Minister.

Her smile turned into scowl though suddenly. Corvus turned in his seat. Edging along the second row to three still empty seats right behind Mr. Weasley was the Malfoy family.

Fudge was introducing the Malfoys to the Bulgarian Minister and then to Mr. Weasley. Corvus watched as both men stared at each other tensely. Mr. Malfoy's cold grey eyes swept over Mr. Weasley, then up and down the row.

"Good lord, Arthur," Corvus could barely hear him say softly. "What did you have to sell to get seats in the Top Box? Surely your house wouldn't have fetched this much?"

Corvus snorted back a laugh. That was a good one.

"He's here as Cornelius's guest, because of all those Galleons he gave to St. Mungo's," his mother told him.

The Malfoys continued down the line of seats. Draco shot the Gryffindor Trio a contemptuous look, then spotted Corvus. He eagerly pointed him out to his parents.

"Lucius, Narcissa," Leandra nodded curtly to each of them. His mother wasn't on such good terms with them. Even after she'd directly addressed her, Narcissa acted as if she didn't exist, instead she just took her seat.

"Ah, Leandra… well done on the stadium," said Mr. Malfoy. "It reminds me of the… old Stirling touch."

Leandra's lip curled, "Thank you."

She turned forward again. Mr. Malfoy nodded politely to Corvus, who meekly waved back. Narcissa caught Corvus's eye. Maybe he was imagining it, but he swore he saw her lips twitch into a smile.

Ludo Bagman's suddenly boomed over the roaring sound of the stadium. "Ladies and gentlemen… welcome! Welcome to the final of the four hundred and twenty-second Quidditch World Cup!"

The spectators screamed and clapped. Thousands of flags waved. The huge blackboard opposite them was wiped clear of its last advertisement and now showed BULGARIA: ZERO, IRELAND: ZERO.

"And now, without further ado, allow me to introduce… the Bulgarian Team Mascots!"

The right-hand side of the stands, which was a solid block of scarlet, roared its approval. A hundred Veela glided out onto the pitch. Corvus leaned forward to look down at them. Louis always boasted about his Veela heritage, but Corvus had never seen one in real life. These women made Louis and his sisters look like hags. The music began and the Veela started to dance… dancing wild, faster and faster… half-formed thoughts started racing through Corvus's mind. He had the sudden urge to do something impressive, something grand…

"Corvus!" said Penelope's voice from a long way off.

The music stopped and Corvus blinked. He was halfway through taking his shirt off. His mother laughed at him. Next to him, Max had his foot up on his seat and he was striking a ridiculous pose.

Angry yells filled the stadium. The crowd didn't want the Veela to go. Corvus felt a strange sadness watching them go too.

"Relax, Ireland will turn that frown upside down," his mother told them.

"And now," roared Bagman's voice, "Kindly put your wands in the air… for the Irish National Team Mascots!"

A great green-and-gold comet came zooming into the stadium. It did one circuit of the stadium, then split into two smaller comets, each hurtling towards the goalposts. A rainbow arced suddenly across the pitch, connecting the two balls of light. The rainbow faded and the balls of light reunited and merged to form a great shimmering shamrock, which rose up into the sky and began to soar over the stands. Something like golden rain seemed to be falling from it –

"Excellent!" yelled Ron Weasley down the row. Heavy gold coins rained from the soaring shamrock. Squinting up, Corvus saw that the shamrock was actually composed of thousands of tiny little bearded men with red waistcoats, each carrying a minute lamps of gold or green.

"Leprechauns!" laughed Max over the tumultuous applause of the crowd.

The great shamrock dissolved, the leprechauns drifted down onto the pitch on the opposite side from the Veela.

"And now, ladies and gentlemen, kindly welcome – the Bulgarian National Quidditch Team! I give you – Dimitrov!" A scarlet-clad figure on a broomstick, moving so fast it was blurred, shot out onto the pitch from an entrance far below. "Zograf! Levski! Vulchanov! Aaaaaaand – _Krum!" _

Corvus followed each player with his Omnioculars. Viktor Krum was thin, dark and sallow-skinned with a large curved nose and thick black eyebrows. He looked like a bird of prey.

"I can't believe he's only eighteen," said Leandra.

"I can," sighed Penelope dreamily.

"And now, please greet – The Irish National Quidditch Team! Presenting Connolly! Ryan! Troy! Mullet! Moran! Quigley! Aaaaand – _Lynch_!"

Seven green blurs swept onto the pitch. Corvus wondered if somewhere in the stands, Claire Vaisey was cheering extra hard for Aiden Lynch. Soon they were off.

"And it's Mullet! Troy! Mullet! Dimitrov! Back to Mullet! Troy! Levski! Mullet!"

Corvus felt Goosebumps crawl up his arms. The three Irish Chasers zoomed closely together, Troy in the center, slightly ahead of Mullet and Moran, bearing down upon the Bulgarians. Troy made as through to darty upwards with the Quaffle, drawing away the Bulgarian Chaser Ivanova, and dropping the Quaffle to Moran. One of the Bulgarian Beaters swung hard at a passing Bludger, knocking it into Moran's path. Moran ducked to avoid it and dropped the Quaffle. Levski soaring beneath caught it – only to have it stolen back by Troy.

"TROY SCORES!" roared Bagman. "Ten-zero Ireland!"

Within ten minutes Ireland had scored twice more, bringing their lead to thirty-zero and causing thunderous tide of roars and applause from the green clad supporters.

The match became faster, and more brutal. Volkov and Vulchanov, the Bulgarian Beaters, were whacking the Bludgers as fiercely as possible at the Irish Chasers, and were starting to prevent them using some of the best moves. Twice they were forced to scatter and then, finally Ivanova managed to break through the ranks, dodge the Keeper, Ryan and score Bulgaria's first goal.

"Dimitrov! Levski! Dimitrov! Ivanova – oh, I say!"

Corvus was surprised to hear Max gasp along with one hundred thousand wizards and witches. The two Seekers, Krum and Lynch, plummeted through the centre of the Chasers, so fast that it looked as thought they had just jumped aeroplanes without parachutes. Corvus wondered if they were going to crash. But at the very last second, Krum pulled out of the dive and spiraled off. Lynch however; hit the ground with a dull thud that could be heard throughout the stadium. A huge groan rose from the Irish seats.

"It's time out!" yelled Bagman's voice. "As trained mediwizards hurry onto the pitch to examine Aiden Lynch!"

"Look, Siobhan," Max pointed out. Louis's oldest sister raced onto the pitch, carrying a pack of various potions, some smoking through their seals. Her long hair was held back in a long braid, tied with a green ribbon. Corvus bet that she was the most beautiful mediwizard to wake up to after a fall like Lynch's.

The Irish Seeker got to his feet at last, to loud cheers from his supporters. Siobhan and the other mediwizards darted off pitch. Lynch mounted his Firebolt and kicked back off into the air.

After fifteen more fast and furious minutes, Ireland had pulled ahead by ten more goals. They were now leading by one hundred and thirty points to ten, and the game was starting to get dirtier. Corvus wondered what would settle the spirits on the pitch. The mascots were going at each other at points even.

"Lynch! Look at him!" Penelope yelled. The Irish Seeker had suddenly gone into a dive. This wasn't a Wronski Feint again…

Half the crowd seemed to have realized the same thing. The Irish supporters rose in a great wave of green, screaming their Seeker on… but Krum was on his tail. He was drawing level with Lynch now, the pair hurtled towards the ground again…

"Oh god!" shrieked Leandra. For the second time, Lynch hit the ground with a tremendous force, and was immediately stampeded by a horde of angry Veela.

"The Snitch, where's the Snitch?" Corvus heard one of the Weasleys bellow along the row.

"He's got it – Krum's got it – it's all over!" shouted Potter. Krum, his red robes shining with blood from his injured nose, was raising gently into the air, his fist held high, a glint of gold in his hand.

The scoreboard was flashing BULGARIA: ONE HUNDRED AND SIXTY, IRELAND: ONE HUNDRED AND SEVENTY.

The rumbling from the Ireland supporters grew louder and louder and erupted into screams of delight.

"IRELAND WINS!" shouted Bagman, who, like everyone else, seemed taken aback by the sudden end of the match. "KRUM GETS THE SNITCH – BUT IRELAND WIN – good Lord, I don't think any of us were expecting that!"

Max turned to Corvus, wonderment across his face. "That match was – _raz_," he breathed.

"Told you, at this level Quidditch is – _oofph!"_

The wind was knocked out of him as Coco shot through the air, colliding in him for a tight celebratory hug. He nearly fell over. "Such a noble sport! Coco has best masters for being her to Quidditch heaven!"

* * *

...

...

Don't we all love surprise updates? I had to reschedule some things (who thought a summer vacation could involve so many rescheduling?) and tomorrow I'm gone early in the morning... URGH! So I thought it would be better to post early, the chapter was done and I quickly read through it again... I hope you enjoyed it! Next update will be.... hmmmm Friday? Yeah Friday sounds good :P Next chapter will include - post World Cup festivities avec le Vaisey family, American girls AGAIN, and... as we all know... the Dark Mark...

and it's another long one!  
pls R&R!


	6. The Dark Mark

**The Dark Mark**

People flooded out back to their campsites. Raucous singing was borne immediately as they retraced their steps along the lantern-lit path. Leprechauns kept shooting over the heads, cackling and waving their lanterns. Somehow during their descent from the Top Box, Coco ended up on the shoulders of a large, sweaty man who had a green shamrock painted on his bare chest. Leandra watched after the House-elf, more than a little concerned about where this could go.

"Mum? Can we go back to Louis's tent?" Corvus asked her, as nicely as possible. Max was in favor of that idea, his half-smirk was practically super-glued onto his face at the suggestion. Leandra looked apprehensive.

The man holding Coco spun around. The House-elf held her tiny arms in the air, "_Wooo hooo! Quidditch!" _

"Be careful!" warned Leandra pulling at the Ireland flag the man was wearing as a cape. "Come on, let her down."

"Mum, please?"

"Corvus it's a mess now, I don't want you getting lost by yourself –"

"I won't get lost!"

"I could take them, Miss Leandra," offered Penelope surprisingly. Corvus looked at her like she was his savior. "I-I'm meeting up with some friends from Hogwarts, I can drop him off before that…"

Leandra sighed. She was trapped. "Fine… thank you Penelope."

"Yes!" he cheered. "Can we stay there for the night too?"

"Sure, why not? It will just be me and Coco celebrating tonight," she drawled. Corvus quickly hugged his mother and him and Max darted off with Penelope.

"Louis wasn't kidding in his letters, about Ireland's Chasers," said Max, "Always thought there's no point to the game - points given to the Seeker are so disproportional to whats given to Chasers – but that match, it was right bangin'."

"Krum just barely made his team look good. Kind of makes you wish we'd seen the other matches."

"How does my hair look?" Penelope interrupted. She'd been fidgeting with her hair the entire time they were walking. The boys shrugged.

"Alright," Corvus eyed her curiously. They past through rows of tents, drawing closer to Louis's.

"Hmmm, Louis's cousins with Claude, right?" Though it was dark, the light from the various lanterns lit enough of Penelope's face for Corvus to see she was blushing.

"That's right…"

"And he's here too," she said. "I saw him."

"Did you now?" his face lit up with a sneer.

"You know, we've spoken before… while he was still at Hogwarts."

"Really? What did you two talk about?"

She murmured something under her breath.

"What?"

"I _said_, he asked me for a quill at the library once."

"Yeah, now that you mention it," Corvus exchanged looks with Max. "He's talked about that _loads _of times."

She held her head high and ignored their snickering.

**X  
X**

It was hardly a surprise to find Louis's tent in full swing of a party. Everything was decorated green, including the large fire they had going in front of their tent. A radio was blasting with the latest tunes of the Weird Sisters. A few people were dancing around the green roaring fire.

Corvus spotted Louis dancing with a girl he vaguely remembered from early outside the _Salem Witches' Institute_ tent. Her friends were there too, but they were now part of a group completely captivated by Claude who was showing off some new charm that turned his hair into fire. His audience was made up entirely by women, of varying ages, and his boss, Gilbert Wimple.

Corvus heard Penelope breath, "He's so talented…"

Corvus realized that most of the people there he didn't recognize. Mr. and Mrs. Vaisey were standing to the side with a large group of other adults. They were drinking glasses of wine, several bottles were already empty to the side.

Mrs. Vaisey had passed on the Veela gene to her children. She was very beautiful like her daughters with long, straight silvery-blonde hair and clear blue eyes. Mr. Vaisey was a shy looking man with feathery salt-and-pepper hair. He often wore ties with racing brooms on them – like that night he wore a green one with red Quaffles and brooms on it.

For a moment a very tall woman standing with Louis's parents distracted Corvus. She was laughing the loudest and speaking French, commanding all the attention. She was handsome, with olive-skin, huge black eyes and sleek hair drawn back from her face. She wore all black satin, with opal jewelry.

"Oi, Blackstone! Max!"

Corvus looked round. Anwar had hailed them; he was standing with Daphne by the fire. Both were holding a bottle of Butterbeer and looked determined to keep a distance from the dancing.

Penelope suddenly grabbed Corvus's arm.

"Do you think he's busy?" she was looking at Claude, who'd abandoned his tricks to just talk with the group of women. "He's probably busy… yes, he's busy."

She let go of Corvus immediately. He smirked at her, "Do you want me to introduce you – or reintroduce you, I mean?"

She thought about it, but then shook her head, "No… that would be silly. A-and I have friends waiting for me. I'll just go," she was still looking at Claude."

Tearing her eyes away finally she turned away and nearly sprinted off. Corvus and Max went over to Anwar and Daphne.

"We were wondering when you'd get here," said Anwar.

"I see Claire figured out what to do with your hair," said Corvus, noting Daphne's hair. It was up with hundreds of green shamrocks woven into strands of hair. It must've looked very pretty when it was first done up, but the night's festivities had loosened it and frizz was starting to poke out.

"It took forever," she muttered, touching it gingerly.

"Where we get the Butterbeer?" asked Max, looking round.

"Right here mate!" Louis hurried over, one arm wrapped around his dancing partner and in his other hand he held two bottles of Butterbeer. Both of them looked winded.

The girl was very pretty, with blonde hair put in pigtails and large green eyes. "Corvus, this is Kelly Strider, she's from Nashville, Tennessee."

"It's a pleasure to meet ya," she curtsied. Her accent was very thick, a real Southern drawl Corvus had only heard before in Muggle Westerns. Burbage once showed one in class, it'd been amusing. "Have you ever been to the United States?"

"Corvus has traveled everywhere, actually," answered Louis. "Right mate?"

"I've been to a few places in America, yeah."

"And Max here, he's actually half American," he pointed him out. Max nodded, his cheeks turned slightly pink.

Kelly smiled sweetly, "Really? Where from?"

"Massachusetts."

"That's so funny, that's where our school is! Ain't it pretty there?"

Max shrugged, "I only went there once, when I was five - "

"Max loved it," Louis assured her.

"I bet he did at five," she laughed. Then she sighed wishfully, "I mean, we just don't got the history like y'all do here in England. Every little house has a story behind it, that's how it feels like anyhow."

"History is boring," smirked Louis. "Why don't we introduce Corvus and Max to your friends, love?"

She giggled, "Every time you call me that… _love_, it just sounds so silly!"

"But why, love?"

She giggled again and seemed to melt further into him. If her friends were anything like her…

"I'd love to meet your friends," Corvus declared.

"Yeah," concurred Max instantly. Louis beamed with pride at them.

It turned out all of Kelly's friends were single and all of them just _loved_ a British accent. Corvus never thought he'd been one for dancing, but he was dancing for hours with the girls. Eventually, after a few more Butterbeers, Max allowed himself to be dragged into for a song or two. Anwar stayed rooted in place though. Daphne did too.

"Hey, where are your sisters?" Corvus asked Louis as he spun his partner, Kimmie from California.

"Celebrating with the Irish team somewhere," he grinned. "Aiden Lynch came to pick Claire up, and well – they all wanted to go with."

"Even M. V.?"

"Oh, don't let her fool you," said Claude waltzing by with some older woman Corvus didn't know. "Margaux lives for a good party."

"Why didn't you go?"

"Because I'm on duty – oh, Merlin," he said suddenly. He'd spotted Gilbert Wimple trying to chat up two women, but they were clearly not interested and they were inching away. Claude stopped dancing and apologized to his partner, "I'll only be a second, Denise."

Though they tried, they couldn't keep the party going forever. Things all around were starting to die down. Mr. and Mrs. Vaisey's guests began to leave. Louis filled him in that they were his parents' friends from Beauxbatons.

"We really need to go," Kelly pouted at Louis. "Miss Scott probably already knows we sneaked off."

"I hope it was worth it," he gave his most charming and mischievous smile. "Can we walk you a bit?"

"I'd like that," she nodded coyly.

Louis beckoned for the Salesmen to come along. Daphne groaned, "Do we have to?"

"I'm not coming," said Anwar bluntly.

"Then you two stay here," replied Louis, his eyes narrowing slightly at them. He turned away from them and offered his arm to Kelly.

**X  
X**

Corvus didn't really know what he expected to happen on this walk back to the girls' tent. But after the first few minutes escorting the girls back to their tent, it was plain as daylight that nothing exciting was going to happen. "So the World Cup only happens every four years?" asked Kimmie after yawning.

"Yeah," answered Max.

"Can't wait," she said without much conviction.

"Should be fun," muttered Corvus.

"We don't really have Quidditch in the States," said Sarah.

"Oh." They slipped into an awkward silence. Corvus and Max walked with the other two girls while Louis and Kellylagged a bit behind for privacy. _They _never seemed to run out of things to say; Corvus only heard hushed giggles back there.

"The party was so much fun," Sarah, told them. "England's so much fun."

"Yeah…"

They were nearly at their tent when Kimmie stopped. "Where are they?"

Corvus turned around. There was no sight of Louis and Kelly.

"We can't go back there without Kelly," Sarah told Corvus sharply, like it was his fault. "Miss Scott will kill us!"

Max cursed to himself. Kimmie looked astonished by his language and was more eager than ever to get back to their chaperones.

"LOUIS!" he called out. The singing that had been going on all night had disappeared, so it was easier to listen for his friend… but he wasn't responding. "I'm sure they're just… taking a break or something."

Suddenly Corvus heard a faint scream far away within the campsite. At first he wasn't sure if it was a scream, but then it came again, this time more shrill and frightened than before. The girls and Max heard it too. They could also hear people running.

"What's happening?" whimpered Sarah clinging onto her friend. Corvus took out his wand. By the light of the few fires that were still burning, he could see people running away into the woods. They were fleeing something that was moving across the field towards them, something that was emitting odd flashes of light, and noises like gunfire. The girls flinched at every bang and soon they both started to run towards their tent. Abandoning Max and Corvus.

Loud jeering, roars of laughter and drunken yells were drifting towards them. Then came a burst of strong green light, which illuminated the scene. Max made a strange breathless noise.

A crowd of wizards, tightly packed and moving together with wands pointing straight upward was marching slowly across the field. Their heads were hooded and their faces masked. Corvus couldn't believe what he was seeing… High above them, floating along in mid-air, four struggling figures were being contorted into grotesque shapes. Two of the figures were very small.

"We need to get out of here," whispered Max, urgent. He too knew what these wizards were.

Corvus looked around wildly. "LOUIS! LOUIS!"

More wizards were joining the marching group, laughing and pointing up at the floating bodies. Tents crumpled and fell as the marching crowd swelled. Once or twice one of the marchers blasted a tent out of his way with his wand. Several caught on fire. The screaming grew louder.

"It-it's Mr. Roberts." Max pointed at the floating people. They were illuminated finally. Corvus could only recognize Mr. Roberts the other three looked as though they might be his wife and children. One of the marchers below flipped Mrs. Roberts upside-down with his wand. Her nightdress fell down to reveal voluminous drawers. She struggled to cover herself up as the crowd below screeched and hooted with glee.

"LOUIS! Dammit, where are you!" It was hopeless. If Louis had any brains he was probably running to safety anyway. He looked around; everyone was running for the woods. Ministry wizards were dashing from very direction towards the source of the trouble. The crowd beneath the Roberts family was coming ever closer. He grabbed Max's arm, "Come on. Get your wand out."

The colored lanterns that had lit the path to the stadium had been extinguished. People were blundering through the trees. Corvus heard crying children, anxious shouts and panicked voices reverberating around them in the cold night air.

There came a bang from the other side of the trees that was louder than anything they'd heard. Several people screamed.

Corvus and Max cut up the path. Both of them had lit their wands to give them some sight. Corvus wanted to get as far away as possible, not really knowing where they'd be safe. The path was packed with plenty of other people. All of them looked nervously over their shoulders towards the commotion back at the campsite.

"Stop!" Max pulled Corvus back abruptly. "We should find your mum."

"I don't know where she is!"

"She's had, you know, experience at this stuff or what," he said tentatively.

"What? Experience with what?"

"_Death Eaters,"_ he hissed. His face was completely drained to blanch white; there was panic in his unblinking eyes. Corvus had only seen his friend this afraid two years ago, when the Chamber of Secrets was opened.

"We have no way of finding her," Corvus had to be the rational one. "We'll be fine, the Ministry's got this handled."

His friend looked around helplessly. Obviously Corvus's words of comfort weren't working, but Max was smart enough to realize he was right. There was no way they could find Leandra.

"Fred and George can't have gone that far," said a familiar voice. Corvus looked around. The Gryffindor trio was a few feet away. Ron Weasley pulled out his wand and lit it. Granger had her wand lit too; they stood beside Potter, who dug around in his pockets for something.

"Ah, no, I don't believe it… I've lost my wand!"

"You're kidding?"

Weasley and Granger raised their wands high enough to spread the narrow beams of light further on the ground for Potter to search for his wand. Corvus gestured to Max that they should join the fourth years. He figured they might know more about the situation – or at least know where to go.

"Maybe it's back in the tent?"

"Maybe it fell out of your pocket when we were running?"

"Yeah, maybe…"

"Way to go, Potter," said Corvus, coming up behind them. The three of them turned round at him, alert and Granger and Weasley shone their wand light on his face. Corvus squinted and shielded his eyes, "Bloody turn them away! Want to turn me blind?"

"What are you doing here?" demanded Weasley.

"Think real hard about it, Weasley, see what you can figure out," he spat, his face growing hot. Then he turned to Granger – who he'd decided a long time ago was the most sensible one of the three – "Where's everyone else?"

"We don't know. We lost them."

"Have you seen anyone else?"

"Just Malfoy," said Potter venomously. Corvus knew that wouldn't help.

A rustling noise made all of them jump. Max went rigid at his side, ready to strike with his wand held in front of him. Corvus was prepared too when a house-elf fought her way through a clump of bushes nearby. The elf moved in the most peculiar fashion, apparently with great difficulty, like someone was trying to hold her back.

"There is bad wizards about!" she squeaked distractedly. "People high – high in the air! Winky is getting out of the way!"

And Winky disappeared into the trees on the other side of the path, panting and squeaking as she fought the force that was restraining her.

"What's up with her?" said Weasley. "Why can't she run properly?"

"Bet she didn't ask permission to hide," said Potter. Corvus suddenly remembered Coco. He could try calling for her. It could work, because even though she wasn't magically bond to his family anymore, she'd answer if she knew he needed her. But then a dark thought crept into his mind… what if his mother needed Coco?

**X  
X**

Leandra rushed out of her tent, Coco in her arms like she'd carry a child. There'd been a loud bang then a ball of fire collided into her tent. Racing out, she abruptly found herself amongst a large crowd of silent, lumbering people. All of their eyes looked blank and empty. There was loud jeering in the center of the crowd. She could just make out a cluster of hooded figures. She knew immediately what was happening.

"Coco, wake up!" she put her on the ground. She whipped out her wand and with a great wave of her arm the fire devouring their tent dissolved.

"Coco no ready for morning…" mumbled Coco, groggy. She'd passed out the minute Leandra got her back in the tent. But when she opened her brown eye, she noticed the floating Muggles above them. She snapped out of it, fully alert.

"Find the Vaisey family, make sure Corvus is safe with them," she commanded. The House-elf left with her usual loud _crack_.

Wasting no time, Leandra weaved through the possessed crowd of wizards protecting the Death Eaters. They kept moving to block her, and she didn't want to hurt them as she pushed past them. She heard more drunk laughter in the center. For a split second she had a direct view at the Death Eaters, one of the masked cowards was pointing at her, laughing.

**X  
X**

"You know, house-elves get a _very _raw deal!" said Granger indignantly. Corvus was appalled she'd pick this specific moment to discuss this – so much for sensibility. "It's slavery, that's what it is! That Mr. Crouch made her go up to the top of the stadium, and she was terrified, and he's got her bewitched so she can't even run when they start trampling tents! Why doesn't anyone _do _something about it?"

"Granger - "

"Well, the elves are happy, aren't they? You heard old Winky back at the match… 'House-elves is not supposed to have fun!'… that's what she likes, being bossed around –"

"It's people like _you,_ Ron," she began hotly. "Who prop up rotten and unjust systems, just because they're too lazy to –"

"Both of you shut up! To hell with elves right now, we've got –"

Another loud bang echoed from the edge of the wood. Max jumped again, his fright causing his wand to send out red sparks. Corvus noticed Potter glancing curiously at his friend – clearly wondering why a Slytherin would be so nervous.

"Let's keep moving, shall we?" said Weasley.

"Smartest thing I've ever heard you say, Weasley," drawled Corvus. He turned his back on the fourth years, about to suggest to Max that they go their separate way as well.

"W-we're coming with you," Max sputtered out.

"We don't need _your _help," snapped Weasley.

Corvus gawked at his friend, incredulously. "Max –"

"It's safer," he said firmly. His azure eyes shifted to each of the Gryffindor trio. "You're a wand short or what, anyway."

"He's right," piped up Granger. "Plus, sticking to a larger group would be best."

Corvus fought the urge to groan. He promised himself that he'd never team up with the Gryffindor trio after saving Sirius… but the universe had a sick sense of humor…

"Whatever," said Potter, "let's just get out of here."

They followed the path deeper into the wood. Corvus kept an eye out for Louis, Anwar, Daphne and his mother, anyone actually. They passed a group of goblins. They were cackling over a sack of gold they had undoubtedly won betting on the match. They seemed quite unperturbed by the trouble on the campsite. Further still along the path, they walked into a patch of silvery light. When they looked through the trees, they saw three tall and beautiful Veela standing in a clearing, surrounded by a gaggle of young wizards, all of whom were talking very loudly.

"I pull down about a hundred sacks of Galleons a year," one of them shouted. "I'm a dragon-killer for the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures."

"No, you're not," yelled his friend. "You're a dishwasher at the Leaky Cauldron… but I'm a Vampire Hunter. I've killed about ninety so far –"

"I'm about to become the youngest every Minister of Magic, I am!"

Corvus doubted that, observing the young wizard with pimples covering his face. Max tugged on his shirt.

"We don't have time for this," he told him. Corvus was about to agree and urge the Gryffindors to keep going, but then Weasley made a proclamation –

"Did I tell you I've invented a broomstick that'll reach Jupiter?"

Corvus sputtered into laughter, even Max forgot his anxiety to smirk at Weasley.

"_Honestly_!" said Granger and she and Potter grabbed Weasley by the arms, wheeled him around and marched him away. Max and Corvus followed. By the time the sounds of the Veela and their admirers had faded completely, they were in the very heart of the wood. They seemed to be alone now. Everything was much quieter.

They looked around. "I reckon we can just wait here, you know, we'll hear anyone coming a mile off," said Potter.

The words were hardly out of his mouth, when Ludo Bagman emerged from behind a tree right ahead of them. Even by the feeble light of the four wands, you could see that a great change had come over Bagman. The man-child was no longer buoyant and rosy-faced. He looked very white and strained.

"Who's that?" he said, blinking at them, trying to make out their faces.

"It's us, Mr. Bagman," replied Corvus, he held his wand's light to his face.

"What are you doing in here, all alone?"

They looked at each other. "Well – there's a sort of riot going on," said Weasley.

"What?"

"On the campsite… some people have got hold of a family of Muggles…"

"Ministry's been trying to fix it," said Corvus, narrowing his eyes at Bagman. "Where _you've_ been, Mr. Bagman?"

Bagman swore loudly. "Damn them!" he said looking quite distracted and without another word, Disapparated with a small _pop._

"Not exactly on top of things, Mr. Bagman, is he?" said Granger, frowning.

"He was a great Beater though," said Weasley, leading the way off the path into a small clearing and sitting down on a patch of dry grass at the foot of a tree. "The Wimbourne Wasps won the league three times in a row while he was with them."

"You're kidding me right?" drawled Corvus. Weasley scowled at Corvus then took his small figure of Viktor Krum out of his pocket. He set it down on the ground and watched it walk around for a while.

Max leaned against a tree, taking a deep breath and letting the light of his wand go out for now. Corvus wondered if he should go speak with him.

"I hope the others are okay," said Granger after a while.

"They'll be fine," said Weasley.

"Imagine if your dad catches Lucius Malfoy," said Potter, sitting down next to Weasley and watching the small figure of Krum. Corvus looked away from Max to Potter.

"Lucius Malfoy is out there?"

"Draco Malfoy as good as told us he was one of the nutters in masks when we met him earlier," said Weasley. "If my dad caught him, that'd wipe the smirk off old Draco's face, all right."

Corvus was quiet. He didn't like to think Lucius _was _out there in a hood and mask. No one Corvus got along with would be a Death Eater, surely not…

**X  
X**

"Blessed be, look who's here!" one Death Eater slurred as Leandra finally came to the center. She could hear the worried shouts of Ministry wizards behind her, trying to figure out the best maneuver to get to were seven of them. They all were turned to her, except for the two who controlled the Robertses in the air.

She wrinkled her nose and pushed her glasses back as they slipped down her nose, "You know I really thought I was done with this rubbish years ago."

"The Madame Crafter – not hiding in your tall, tall tower anymore?" another sneered. His voice was familiar. Silky, drawling…

"Lucius?" she smirked. "Is that you?"

The Death Eater opened his arms and gave a slight bow. Leandra's eyes narrowed angrily at the taunt. "I would've thought a grown man like you would be able to handle his alcohol. Narcissa is surely quite embarrassed… playing dress up and prancing about while the entire Ministry of Magic watches? So unbecoming…"

"Shut up, you disgusting half-blood!" another Death Eater shouted at her. This voice was _very _familiar, though she hadn't heard it for years. She searched her brain for a name… "It's about time _everyone_ remembers the _real_ championship! The championship of blood!" The Death Eater raised his fist in the air proudly, and nearly swayed.

"Isn't it nice to include the Mudbloods in our celebrations?" said the Death Eater Leandra suspected to be Lucius Malfoy.

A third Death Eater yelled, "What right do any of us have to celebrate when we've got filth to clean up!" He pointed his wand up at the Robertses, the child screamed in pain.

"_Expelliarmus!" _shouted Leandra, disarming him and ceasing the curse.

The Death Eaters all raised their wands. There were flashes of colors, but Leandra didn't flinch.

"_Protego!" _their curses bounced off her. Without delaying, she placed the closest Death Eater into a full-body binding curse.

"_Expulso!" _one of the others shouted. Leandra barely had time to conjure up another shield. It wasn't as strong, and Leandra fell back. It felt like a wall smashed into the front of her face. His fellow Death Eaters released the one she'd placed in a binding curse.

Her head was spinning from the impact, she felt blood slowly ooze from her nose, but she fought through the daze. The Death Eaters were chuckling at her. She gave a sweeping wave of her wand and three falcons came screeching into existence, "_Oppugno!"_ On her command the bird darted towards the three nearest Death Eaters, each as precise as bullets. The Death Eaters swat their arms out at the attacking birds of prey.

"_AH!_"

Leandra froze. The Roberts family suddenly dropped several feet, threatening to plummet to their deaths but it was only a threat. "Call off your little birdies," one said in a hiss of a voice. He had his wand on the Robertses.

She un-summoned them, "Let them go."

"You can't stop us," he said. "You couldn't stop us thirteen years ago, you can't stop us now_._ Just be glad you haven't any more relatives left for us to kill."

Her knuckles went white as she gripped onto her wand. She hadn't felt a surge of anger like this for a long time.

"Leandra! Don't!" someone shouted. Amos Diggory pushed through the crowd into the center, more Ministry wizards right behind him. She saw a few of the Weasley boys. The Death Eaters turned to deal with them too, throwing out curses like they were nothing.

A light erupted in the sky. Everyone turned to the woods. Leandra's mouth fell open and she felt a terrible chill run through her.

**X  
X**

It sounded as thought someone was staggering towards the clearing. They waited, listening to the sounds of the uneven steps behind the dark trees. Max moved slowly to Corvus's side next to the Gryffindors. The footsteps came to a sudden halt.

"Hello?" called Potter.

There was silence. Potter got to his feet and peered through the tree. Corvus looked too, it was too dark to see very far but he could sense somebody standing just beyond his vision. Corvus pointed his wand in that direction.

"Who's there?" asked Potter.

And then, the silence was rent by a voice unlike any they had heard in the wood. And it uttered, not a panicked shout, but a spell.

"_MORSMORDRE!"_

Something vast, green and glittering erupted from the patch of darkness Corvus's eyes had been struggling to penetrate. It flew up over the treetops and into the sky.

"What the – ?" gasped Weasley, springing to his feet and staring up at the thing. Again Corvus wished he didn't know as much as he did about modern history…

A colossal skull, composed of emerald stars with a serpent protruding from its mouth like a tongue… It rose higher and higher, blazing in a haze of greenish smoke, etched against the black sky like a new constellation. Suddenly the wood all around them erupted in screams.

"Run, _run!_" Corvus told them, but Potter was still looking for the person who had conjured the Dark Mark.

"Who's there?"

"Harry, come on, _move!" _Granger seized the back of Potter's jacket and tugged him backwards.

"Max!"

His friend stood completely still, staring upwards, the grisly neon light of the skull glittering off his wide eyes.

"What's the matter?" asked Potter.

"It's the Dark Mark, Harry! You-Know-Who's sign!"

"_Voldemort's - ?_"

"Shut up, Potter!" shouted Corvus, his voice more shrill than he'd like it. How could Potter be so stupid as to say You-Know-Who's name _now?_

"Harry, come on!" Potter turned. Weasley hurriedly scooped up his miniature Krum, and they finally started across the clearing. But before they had taken more than a few hurried steps, a series of popping noises announced the arrival of twenty wizards, appearing from thin air, surrounding them.

A similar thing happened last year to Corvus, funnily enough, when the Ministry raided their house in search of his mother. Though this time, he noticed that each of these wizard's had his wand out, pointed right at them and it didn't look like they were going to give warning. He seized Max and pulled him down onto the ground. "_DUCK!_" Potter had the same idea.

"_STUPEFY!_" roared twenty voices. There was a series of flashes and it felt like a powerful wind had swept the clearing. Fiery red light flew over them from the wizards' wands, crossing each other, bouncing off tree-trunks and rebounding into the darkness.

"_Stop!_ STOP! _That's my son!" _

Corvus raised his head a little. The wizards lowered their wands. Mr. Weasley strode towards them, looking terrified.

"Ron – Harry – Hermione," his voice sounded shaky, "are you all right?"

"Out of the way, Arthur," said a cold, curt voice. It was Mr. Crouch. He and the other Ministry wizards were closing in on them. Corvus got to his feet as did Max. Mr. Crouch's face was taut with rage.

"Which of you did it?" he snapped, his sharp eyes darting between them. "Which of you conjured up the Dark Mark?"

"We didn't do that!" said Potter, gesturing up at the skull.

"We didn't do anything!" said Weasley, rubbing his elbow and looking indignantly at his father. "What did you attack us for?"

"Do not lie sir!" shouted Mr. Crouch.

"We're not lying!" Corvus shouted back, shaking out the dirt that been blown in his hair.

Mr. Crouch swerved round to aim his wand at Corvus, his eyes were popping – he looked slightly mad. "You have been discovered at the scene of the crime!"

"Someone else did it," said Max, his voice hesitant and barely audible. It was like he never thought he'd speak again.

"Barty," whispered a witch in a long woolen dressing-gown, "they're kids, Barty, they'd never have been able to –"

"Where did the Mark come from?" asked Mr. Weasley quickly.

"Over there," said Granger, pointing to the place they had heard the voice, "there was someone behind the trees… they shouted words – an incantation –"

"Oh, stood over there, did they?" said Mr. Crouch, turning his popping eyes on Granger now. "Said an incantation, did they? You seem very well informed about how that Mark is summoned, missy –"

"How else do you cast a spell, sir?" inquired Corvus, sharply.

"You're quite resistant to questioning –"

Corvus was ready to keep going, but Max nudged him. Besides none of the Ministry wizards apart from Crouch seemed to think it remotely likely that any of them had conjured the skull. On the contrary, at Granger's word, they had raised all their wands and were pointing in the direction she'd indicted, squinting through the dark tress.

"We're too late," said the witch in the woolen dressing gown. "They'll have Disapparated."

"I don't think so," said a wizard with a scrubby brown beard. "Our stunners went right through those trees… there's a good chance we got them…"

"Amos, be careful!" said a few of the wizards as Amos squared his shoulders, raised his wand, marched across the clearing and disappeared into the darkness. A few seconds later, they heard him shout.

"Yes! We got them! There's someone here! Unconscious! It's – but – blimey…"

"You've got someone?" shouted Mr. Crouch, sounding highly disbelieving. "Who? Who is it?"

They heard snapping twigs, the rustling of leaves and then the crunching footsteps as Amos re-emerged from behind the trees. He was carrying a tiny, limp figure in his arms. It was Winky.

* * *

...

...

A/N Okay so I went back and changed a few things, hadn't realized how much this chapter needed a proof read, oops! I mean one of the first lines Max has was a direct repeat from last chapter! How mortifying. Anyway, cliffhanger! Not really, because we all knew it was going to be Winky. And I hope it was a pleasant surprise to have Corvus team up again with the Golden Trio, plus Max! Poor Max, the burdens a Muggleborn Slytherin must carry... Next chapter; continuation basically on the original chapter The Dark Mark in GoF, duh!

Also, rereading the chapter, I didn't realize this but some sort of brawl happens between the Death Eaters and the Ministry folk, Bill has like a gash in his arm and Charlie has a blackeye i think! Geez! At first I wrote that Leandra only has a little verbal sparring with the sleezebags, but then i read THAT and i was like oh, okay, it's ON! like Donky Kong!

pls R&R


	7. Unusual Suspects

Torch Phoenix, a fan of STAR and SS, has drawn some fanart of Lee and Reg. They're really good! Check them out: / torchphoenix .deviantart. com / art / Leandra-Regulus-STAR-164409350 (get rid of spaces)

* * *

**Unusual Suspects **

Mr. Crouch did not move or speak as the Ministry wizard deposited the elf on the ground at his feet. The other Ministry wizards were all staring at Crouch. For a few seconds Crouch remained transfixed, his eyes blazing in his white face as he stared down at Winky. Then he appeared to come to life again.

"This – cannot – be," he said jerkily. "No –"

He moved quickly around Amos and strode off towards the place where he had found Winky. "No, point, Mr. Crouch," he called after him. "There's no one else there."

But Crouch did not seem prepared to take his word for it. They could hear him moving around, the rustling of leaves as he pushed the bushes aside, searching.

"Bit embarrassing," Amos said grimly, looking down at the elf's unconscious form. "Barty Crouch's house-elf… I mean to say…"

"Come off it, Amos," said Mr. Weasley quietly, "You don't seriously think it was the elf? The Dark Mark's a wizard's sign. It requires a wand."

"Yeah, and she _had _a wand."

"What?"

"Here look." He held up a wand and showed it to Mr. Weasley. "Had it in her hand. So that's clause three of the Code of Wand Use broken for a start. _No non-human creature is permitted to carry or use a wand."_

Corvus frowned. Could an elf even _use_ a wand? He'd never seen Coco pick up one, and his mother let their house-elf do practically anything she wanted. _But if they have a law against it, it means it can happen to some effect_, he decided privately.

Just then there was another _pop, _and Ludo Bagman Apparated right nest to Mr. Weasley. Looking breathless and disorientated, he spun on the spot, goggling upwards at the emerald green skull. "The Dark Mark!" he panted, almost trampling Winky as he turned enquiringly to his colleagues. "Who did it? Did you get them? Barty! What's going on?"

Crouch had returned empty-handed. His face was still ghostly white and his hands and his toothbrush moustache were both twitching. Was this all it took to reduce Barty Crouch to shambles, an unconscious house-elf? He couldn't explain why, but Corvus suspected there was something else behind Crouch's anxiety. He stared at Winky, trying to think what it could be.

"Where have you been, Barty? Why weren't you at the match? Your elf was saving you a seat, too – gulping gargoyles!" Bagman finally noticed the elf lying at his feet. "What happened to _her?"_

"I have been busy, Ludo," said Crouch, still talking in the same jerky fashion, barely moving his lips. "And my elf has been stunned."

"Stunned? By you lot, you mean? But why –"

Comprehension drawn suddenly on the man-child's round, shiny face. " _No!_ Winky? Conjure the Dark Mark? She wouldn't know how! She'd need a wand for a start!"

"And she had one," said Amos. "I found her holding one, Ludo. If it's alright with you, Mr. Crouch, I think we should hear what she's got to say for herself."

Crouch gave no sign that he'd heard the Ministry wizard. He took this for assent. He raised his own wand, pointed it at Winky and said, "_Enervate!" _

The elf stirred feebly. Her great brown eyes opened and she blinked several times in a bemused sort of way. Watched by the silent wizards, she raised herself shakily into a sitting position. She caught sight of the Ministry wizard's feet, and slowly raised her eyes to stare up into his face. Then, more slowly still, she looked up into the sky. The floating skull reflected twice in her enormous, glassy eyes. She gave a gasp, looked wildly around the crowded clearing and burst into terrified sobs.

"Elf!" said Amos sternly. "Do you know who I am? I'm a member of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures!" She began to rock backwards and forwards on the ground, her breath coming in sharp bursts. "As you see, elf, the Dark Mark was conjured here a short while ago," said Amos. "And you were discovered moments later, right beneath it! An explanation, if you please!"

"I – I – I is not doing it, sir!" she gasped. "I is not knowing how, sir!"

"You were found with a wand in your hand!" he barked, brandishing it in front of her.

"Hey – that's mine!" said Potter.

Everyone in the clearing looked at him.

"Excuse me?" said the Ministry wizard, incredulously.

"That's my wand! I dropped it!"

"You dropped it?" the wizard repeated in disbelief. "Is this a confession? You threw it aside after you conjured the Mark?"

"Amos, think who you're talking to!" said Mr. Weasley, very angrily. "Is _Harry Potter _likely to conjure the Dark Mark?"

"Er – of course not," mumbled Amos. "Sorry… carried away…"

This was disgusting; Corvus was beginning to greatly doubt the brainpower behind his country's Ministry of Magic.

"I didn't drop it there, anyway," said Potter. "I missed it right after we got into the wood."

"So," said Amos, turning to look at Winky again. She cowered at his feet. "You found this wand, eh, elf? And you picked it up and thought you'd have some fun with it, did you?"

"I is not doing magic with it, sir!" she squealed, tears streaming down the sides of her squashed and bulbous nose. "I is… I is… I is just picking it up, sir! I is not making the Dakr Mark, sir, I is not knowing how!"

"It wasn't her!" said Granger. She looked very nervous, speaking up in front of all these Ministry wizards, yet determined all the same. "Winky's got a squeaky voice and the voice we heard doing the incantation was much deeper!" She looked round for everyone's support. "It didn't sound anything like Winky, did it?"

"No," said Potter, shaking his head. "It definitely didn't sound like an elf."

"There's no way that voice was hers," said Corvus.

"Yeah, it was a human voice," said Weasley. Max nodded.

"Well, we'll soon see," growled the wizard, unimpressed. "There's a simple way of discovering the last spell a wand performed, elf, did you know that?"

Winky trembled and shook her head frantically. The wizard raised his wand again, and placed it to tip to tip with Potter's. "_Prior Incantato!" _

Granger gasped, horrified, as a gigantic serpent-tongued skull erupted from the point where the two wands met, but it was a mere shadow of the green skull high above them, it looked as though it was made of thick grey smoke: the ghost of a spell. Corvus stared in awe.

"_Deletrius!" _the wizard shouted, and the smoky skull vanished in a wisp of smoke. "So," he said with a kind of savage triumph, looking down upon Winky, who was still shaking convulsively. Corvus grimaced. Watching the wizard bear down on her like that was beginning to get uncomfortable…

"I is not doing it! I is not, I is not, I is not knowing how! I is a good elf, I isn't using wands, I isn't knowing how!"

"_You been caught red-handed, elf!_ Caught with the guilty wand in your hands!"

"That doesn't mean she did it," Corvus blurted out. The attention was turned on him. It was pure instinct, a natural reaction for when he felt the pressure of an authority figure's reprimand. "She just had the wand with her, she could be a victim of circumstance."

He looked to Max, who he _knew _had used that line before too like him.

"Amos," said Mr. Weasley, "think about it… precious few wizards know how to do that spell… where would she have learnt it?"

"Perhaps Amos is suggesting," said Mr. Crouch, cold anger in every syllable, "that I routinely teach my servants to conjure the Dark Mark?"

There was a deeply unpleasant silence. Amos looked horrified. "Mr. Crouch … not … not at all…"

"You have now come very close to accusing the two people in this clearing who are _least _likely to conjure that Mark!" he barked. "Harry Potter – and myself! I suppose you are familiar with the boy's story, Amos?"

"Of course – everyone knows –"

"And I trust you remember the many proofs I have given, over a long career, that I despise and detest the Dark Arts and those who practice them?"

"Mr. Crouch, I – I never suggested you have anything to do with it!"

"If you accuse my elf, you accuse me, Diggory! Where else would she have learnt to conjure it?"

"She – she might've picked it up anywhere –"

"Precisely, Amos," said Mr. Weasley. "She _might have picked it up anywhere._ Winky?" he said kindly, turning to the eld, but she flinched as though he too was shouting at her. "Where exactly did you find Harry's wand?"

She was twisting the hem of her tea-towel so violently that it was fraying beneath her fingers. "I – I is finding it… finding it there, sir," she whispered, "there… in the trees, sir…"

"You see, Amos? Whoever conjured the Mark could have Disapparated right after they'd done it, leaving Harry's wand behind. A clever thing to do, not using their own wand, which could have betrayed them. And Winky here had the misfortune to come across the wand moments later and pick it up."

"But then, she'd have been feet away from the real culprit!" said Diggory impatiently. "Elf? Did you see anyone?"

Winky began to tremble worse than ever. Her giant eyes flickered from Diggory to Ludo Bagman and on to Mr. Crouch. "I is seeing no one, sir… no one…"

"Amos," said Mr. Crouch curtly, "I am fully aware that, in the ordinary course of events, you would want to take Winky into your department for questioning. I ask you, however, to allow me to deal with her."

Diggory looked as though he didn't think much of this suggestion at all, but it was clear that Crouch was such an important member of the Ministry that he did not dare refuse him.

"You may rest assured that she will be punished," he added coldly.

"M-m-master…" Winky stammered, looking up at Crouch, her eyes brimming with tears. "M-m-master p-p-please…"

Crouch stared back, his face somehow sharpened, each line upon it more deeply etched. There was no pity in his gaze. "Winky has behaved tonight in a manner I would not have believed possible. I told her to remain in the tent. I told her to stay there while I went to sort out the trouble. And I find that she disobeyed me. _This means clothes._"

"No! No, master! Not clothes, not clothes!" she shrieked, prostrating herself at his feet. It was pitiful to see the way the house-elf clutched at her tea towel as she sobbed over Crouch's feet.

"But she was frightened!" Granger burst out angrily, glaring at Crouch. "Your elf's scared of heights, and those wizards in masks were levitating people! You can't blame her for wanting to get out of their way!"

Corvus agreed with her, but didn't say anything. Crouch wasn't going to be any kinder. He took a step backwards, freeing himself from contact with the elf. "I have no use for a house-elf who disobeys me," he said, coldly, looking up at Granger. "I have no use for a servant who forgets what is due to her master, and to her master's reputation."

Winky was crying so hard that her sobs echoed around the clearing.

**X  
X**

The campsite was quiet again. The masked wizards had Disapparated the second they'd seen the Dark Mark, the Ministry had just been able to catch the Robertses from falling in their wake. Several ruined tents were still smoking, crafters were working furiously to mend them – but most of them were too outraged by their tarnished fabric.

Leandra shielded her face as the shredded flaps of one tent tried whipping her. The tent had been reduced to countless of frayed pieces; it resembled an octopus more than anything else. Worse still was that its tentacles were burning hot from the recent extinguished fire.

"_Protego!"_ she shouted, her voice unusually voluminous. The tent's tentacles were blown back. Leandra quickly twirled her wand, her eyes unblinking staring at the tent. Suddenly all the tent's flaps were tied into a knot. That would make her job a little easier. It definitely provided her with space to think for a moment.

What was happening? First Métis goes missing for three weeks, only to reappear with a new life plan. Then she gets word that her brother is seeking forgiveness. And tonight someone cast the Dark Mark after thirteen years…

She was forced to put the strange thought out of her head. The tent shuddered violently; it was untying itself since Leandra had let her concentration slip. The Madame Crafter sighed angrily; she made a slashing motion with her wand.

There was a loud _clap_ and a burst of blue light. The frayed pieces untied, unrolled and fused back together to drape over its frame again. She was halfway there, the tent twitched rebelliously again. She made a complicated motion with her wand, her eyes unblinkingly staring at the tent again, and there was a tremble through the earth underneath the tent. A ripple passed through the tent and finally the construct was still.

"Lady Leandra!" she heard Coco shriek. She turned, hoping to see her house-elf with her son, but instead she found Coco with Louis Vaisey and a young girl she didn't know. They were running towards her.

"Coco – where's – where's Corvus?" she asked immediately.

"Ms. Black it's all our fault," panted Louis. The handsome boy looked sick with worry, his face ghost pale. The girl next to him was sobbing. "We – we lost him and Max, before everything started –"

The girl broke down into louder tears.

"Lady Leandra, please, Coco didn't know where Master Corvus was… and – and I is scared, Master Corvus's friend too –"

"I – I asked her to stay," Louis confessed. Leandra could tell he felt enormous guilt about it. She bit her bottom lip. She had to keep her cool, no one was hurt. Chances were Corvus and Max were in the wood… _where the Dark Mark had been conjured!_

"Take them back to their families, Coco," she ordered quickly before Disapparating.

**X  
X**

A large crowd of frightened-looking witches and wizards were congregated at the edge of the wood. When they saw Mr. Weasley coming towards them, many of them surged forward.

"What's going on in there?"

"Who conjured it?"

"Arthur – it's not – _him_?"

"Of course it's not him," said Mr. Weasley impatiently. "We don't know who it was, it looks like they Disapparated. Now excuse me, please, I want to get to bed."

He led Corvus, Max and the Gryffindor trio through the crowd and back into the campsite. "Corvus, I think you should stay with us until your mum finds you," said Mr. Weasley, looking over his shoulder at Max and him. "There's enough people out there searching for their families in the dark – it's better you stay in one place and this way you two can rest for a while."

"Thanks." Corvus liked the sound of taking a break, but he'd rather see his mother. As the group fell into a silence, he turned to Max and whispered, "You okay?"

His friend briefly glanced back at him, but didn't reply.

One of the Weasleys, Corvus vaguely remembered he was either Charlie or Bill, had his head poked out of their tent as they approached. "Dad, what's going on?" he called through the dark. "Fred, George and Ginny got back okay, but the others –"

"I've got them here," said Mr. Weasley, bending down and entering the tent. The others followed after him. The other older Weasley was sitting at the small kitchen table, holding a bedsheet to his arm, which was bleeding profusely. Charlie Weasley had a large rip in his shirt, and Percy was sporting a bloody nose. The twins and Ginny Weasley looked unhurt, though shaken.

"Did you get them, dad?" said the oldest sharply. "The person who conjured the Mark?"

"No," said Mr. Weasley. "We found Barty Crouch's elf holding Harry's wand, but we're none the wiser about who actually conjured the Mark."

"_What?_" said the three eldest brothers together.

"Harry's wand?"

"_Mr. Crouch's elf?"_

Mr. Weasley explained what happened in the woods. Potter, Granger and Ron Weasley assisted at points, but Corvus and Max remained silent.

"Well, Mr. Crouch is quite right to get rid of an elf like that!" said Percy Weasley. "Running away when he'd expressly told her not to… embarrassing him in front of the whole Ministry… how would that have looked, if she'd been had up in front of the Department for the Regulation and Control –"

"She didn't do anything – she was just in the wrong place at the wrong place!" snapped Granger. "A victim of circumstance, like Corvus said!"

Percy Weasley looked very taken aback, regarding Granger and Corvus. "A wizard in Mr. Crouch's position can't afford a house-elf who's going to run amok with a wand!" he replied pompously.

"She didn't run amok! She just picked it up off the ground!"

"Look, can someone just explain what that skull thing was?" said Ron Weasley impatiently.

"I told you, it's You-Know-Who's symbol, Ron," said Granger. "I read about it in _The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts_."

Corvus had read about it too in _The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts._ He'd read sections of that book when he visited Flourish and Blotts for the first time, back when he was eleven years old. Ironically he'd also learned about his own family for the first time in that book, there was an entire chapter dedicated to the Stirling Massacre.

"And it hasn't been seen for thirteen years," said Mr. Weasley quietly. "Of course people panicked… it was almost like seeing You-Know-Who back again."

"I don't get it," said Ron Weasley. "I mean… it's still only a shape in the sky…"

"Ron, You-Know-Who and his followers sent the Dark Mark into the air whenever they killed," he said. "The terror it inspired… you have no idea, you're too young. Just picture coming home, and finding the Dark Mark hovering over your house, and knowing what you're about to find inside… everyone's worst fear… the very worst…"

There was a silence for a moment. Max had his arms crossed over his chest. The liight quivered across his still eyes.

Then the oldest Weasley removed the sheet from his arm to check on his cut and said, "Well, it didn't help tonight, whoever conjured it. It scared the Death Eaters away the moment they saw it. They all Disapparated before we'd got near enough to unmask any of them. We caught the Robertses before they hit the ground, though. They're having their memories modified right now."

"Yeah, your mum was one of the first on the scene," said Charlie Weasley, looking to Corvus. "Faced them head on by herself for a while."

"Is she okay? What happened?" he asked immediately. Why hadn't anyone told him this before?

"She's fine, just a headache and a bloody nose," the oldest replied. Corvus didn't trust him, figuring they were probably trying to ease his nerves. He made to get up, but then the flap to their tent was thrown open.

Leandra came crawling into the tent, breathless and her glasses askew. Corvus saw the blood stains on the front of her nightshirt. But there were no visible signs of the brawl otherwise. "Corvus!"

She got up and flung her arms round him. She held him so tightly; it was an effort to breath. Then she changed it up by kissing him repeatedly on the cheek. This was too much; Corvus pried her arms off him, blushing in front of the Weasleys. But in the light of things, none of them scoffed.

"I've just been to Ludo and Amos, they told me _everything_," she explained. "When Coco told me she couldn't find you two – I had to make sure whoever conjured the Dark Mark hadn't – oh, this is too much," she gave a shaky laugh. Corvus smirked back, relieved to have her back. "Thank you Arthur for keeping them safe."

"Of course, Leandra," he assured her.

She sighed, shaking her head and muttering, "Damn those Death Eaters."

"Death Eaters? What are Death Eaters?" asked Potter.

"It's what You-Know-Who's supporters called themselves," said Bill. "I think we saw what's left of them tonight – the ones who managed to keep themselves out of Azkaban, anyway."

"We can't prove it was them, Bill," said Mr. Weasley. "Though it probably was."

Leandra snorted, "It felt all too similar _not_ to be them."

"But what were Voldemort's supporters – " began Potter. Everyone except for Leandra flinched at You-Know-Who's name. "Sorry," he said quickly, "What were You-Know-Who's supporters up to, levitating Muggles? I mean, what was the point?"

"The point?" repeated Mr. Weasley with a hallow laugh. "Harry that's their idea of fun. Half the Muggle killings back when You-Know-Who was in power were done for fun. I suppose they had a few drinks tonight and couldn't resist reminding us all that lots of them are still at large. A nice little reunion for them."

"Hn," huffed Corvus's mother. There was something behind her expression, it was indiscernible but Corvus felt his mother was withholding something. "It's late, and I've got to check on the repairs to those tents. But Corvus and Max will be able to get a few hours of sleep… thank you again, Arthur."

She shook Mr. Weasley's hand, and then his eldest sons who had been involved in the fight with her. She led Corvus and Max back to their tent, explaining along the way that Coco had found Louis Vaisey earlier and all their friends were safe.

Waiting by their tent's entrance was a sobbing Coco. She immediately gave both Max and Corvus a big hug. It took a while to convince her that they didn't hate her for not finding them, and finally Corvus and Max went upstairs.

They got to the second floor landing; their rooms were across from each other. Both had queen sized beds, it would be like sleeping on clouds. Corvus felt exhausted, nothing about the night felt real.

"Tomorrow," began Max, before Corvus slipped into his bedroom, "I want to go back to Manchester."

Max was supposed to spend the last week of summer vacation at Corvus's house in Bristol. He'd actually been excited to show off his massive house to Max. Besides, he'd stayed at Max's place twice, it was time he repaid the favor. But it was clear Max was resolved on this matter. He was tired, he was shaken and he was in need of his home.

"Okay, Max."

* * *

...

...

Okay so I have some annoying news... I'm away from home until mid June, and I planned on still writing BUT... I forgot my copy of GoF... I have the next two chapters written up, but the rest I have to wait until I get the book back... I could try writing without it, but ew, that would feel so wrong haha. SO I plan on posting the next two chapters, but I also wanted to know if you guys would be interested in like a filler-chapter. It would basically be a compilation of unseen scenes, maybe for each character... Like I've written the scene where Max meets Cho for the first time (I wrote that for myself :P) and I wrote a scene where Daphne discusses the Salesmen with Pansy and Tracey (that scene was going to be used to open the sequel)

If a filler-chapter sounds like fun, let me know! Either in a review or on the poll I'm going to create in like ONE-minute...

Hope you enjoyed this chapter though!


	8. Gathering Pieces

**Gathering the Pieces**

"Master Corvus?" Coco shook him gently. He rolled over, burying his face into his pillows and he groaned. "Master Corvus – yours friends are here. Master Louis and Master Anwar and Mistress –"

"Huh?" he lifted his head, his hair completely screwed up. Coco turned to point to his bedroom's door. Standing in the doorframe were Louis, Anwar and Daphne. Absolutely tortured with guilty, Louis's puppy-dog eyes immediately locked onto Corvus's.

He took their eye contact as permission to enter. The blonde boy raced over to embrace Corvus. "I swear to Merlin – if I'd known that was going to happen – I'd have _never_ gone off with that American girl!"

"Knock it off," Corvus pushed him off, smirking, "Better've been worth it though."

Louis let himself smirk back, "A little, it was – yeah, actually, I'd say it was."

Daphne made a derisive noise. Corvus looked over, she was a mix of worried and annoyed. He patted down his messy bed-hair; "Anyway, we got to the woods when it started up. What about you lot?"

"Him and the American got to the woods safely," her brown eyes glared at Louis.

"We got lucky, ran into my parents' old Headmistress," he explained. "Bloody good witch, she is – like a female, French Dumbledore, so we were safe. Then your house-elf found us."

"First she came to us at the tent," said Daphne. "The thing nearly died when she didn't find you – _we_ were already nervous as it was. The Ministry was no help, we had to find our own way past the – the whatever that group was."

Corvus had the distinct impression that Daphne _knew_ what that group was, but she didn't want to say it.

"Claude went to help break them up," said Louis. "Came back with a black eye the size of a grapefruit."

"What do you think that whole _thing_ was about?" wondered Daphne. He could've easily gone into everything he'd seen and heard last night, but Corvus doubted his recounting the details would shed any more light on the issue. He shrugged instead.

"How's Max?" asked Anwar.

Louis's head whipped round to stare at Corvus for an answer to that. There was a tentative pause. Clearly Anwar's question regarded Max on several levels.

"He's –"

"I'm tired," Max spoke for himself. He came into the room, already dressed. "Otherwise I'm good."

Louis gave perhaps the loudest sigh of relief Corvus had ever heard from him. "Bloody hell, Max, it's good to see you."

"You too," he said, smirking. "Good to see all of you, actually, because we have to get our things in order before next week."

Corvus chuckled; naturally his friend would redirect the attention to business. "He's right," he agreed, and looked at Daphne, "Have you thought about how much ingredients you'll need to for these Tentettes?"

Her face went blank. "Ah…"

"What's your estimate for their first shipment?" asked Max.

"I – I, huh," she glanced between them, hopeless, "I haven't really thought about it."

There was a hint of disappointment in Max's expression, his smirk completely gone. As someone who knew what it was like being on the receiving side of that look, Corvus felt Daphne was holding up pretty good against it. He spoke up for her, "Last night was quite distracting, Max."

"Exactly, thank you," she said, slightly exasperated. "I'd think in light of _that_ - "

"You should've had these numbers in mind when you came to us with the proposal."

"Hold on - how was I supposed to know you lot would say yes?"

"Leave her alone," Louis left Corvus's bedside to swing an arm round Daphne's shoulder, "She's new. A bit of number crushing, that's all, Greengrass, reckon you can get it done in a few days."

"We have enough time," confirmed Anwar. Corvus looked to Max, who gave a conceding nod.

**X  
X**

The Salesmen stayed for a few hours after Max and Corvus woke up, sitting with them while they had their breakfast. Corvus noted that Daphne remained quiet on the most part. He wondered if he should've pulled her aside to assure her that she wasn't being singled out – that any of them would've gotten that treatment if they had forgotten to write up the numbers. But he decided not to, figuring she was tough enough to shake it off.

The group split up again as Daphne, Anwar and Louis caught an early Portkey out with his family. The majority of people at the campsites left early too. Penelope was allowed to leave first thing in the morning, Leandra knew her apprentice's family would worried about their daughter.

The Madame Crafter, however, had to oversee the packing up of all the tents, meaning they were going to be some of the last to leave. It was important that she make sure none of the tents left a magical imprint that could fester into something dangerous.

By late afternoon they finally left the campsite. Passing Mr. Roberts at the door of his cottage, the Muggle had a strange dazed look about him and he waved them off with a vague "Merry Christmas."

"Don't worry, he'll be all right," said Leandra quietly, placing a hand on Max's shoulder. Corvus had told his mother about Max. "When a person's memory's been modified, it can take some time for them to… get situated again."

"Where's Coco?" Corvus asked his mother, noticing the lack of insane house-elves around them.

"I sent her to deliver a message," she replied. She groaned suddenly, "Look at that queue!"

Though it was later in the day, great number of wizards and witches gathered round the Ministry official in charge of the Portkeys. They were all clamoring to get away from the campsite as quick as possible. Loads of people were holding today's _Daily Prophet_. When a panicky looking witch knocked past Corvus, she dropped her issue of the newspaper. Cursing her under his breath, he bent down quickly to pick up the paper, reading the headline; SCENES OF TERROR AT THE QUIDDITCH WORLD CUP, complete with a twinkling, black and white photograph of the Dark Mark over the treetops.

"Did you tell your mum I'm going home?" Max asked as Leandra pushed her way through the crowd to speak with the keeper of the Portkeys.

"We can practice, _Animagi_," he said out of the corner of his mouth, "at my place – a perk of being in a wizarding family –Ministry expect parents to stop their underage children from using magic – course they don't enforce that they actually do that... probably not in their budget."

"It's only a week. We have all school year to learn it."

Corvus was more than a little disappointed. He'd devised an outline for him and Max for learning Animagi, by his timeline they should make it by January of their fifth year. He'd hate for them to be behind schedule, but it was useless. Max wasn't going to change his mind.

**X**

**X**

Leandra managed to get them a rusty watering can back to Diagon Alley. The long cobbled street was packed with people, all of them huddled together talking over the _Daily Prophet_ or rushing to stores to pick up their own copies.

"Guess the _Prophet's_ making a killing today in sales," said Leandra, leading them into the Leaky Cauldron. It was crowded as the streets, being inside the patrons' whispers seemed to buzz louder than outside. His mother scanned the tavern.

"Are you looking for someone?" Corvus asked her, glaring at an old, rather chubby woman who'd pushed by him to swap gossip with a table nearby.

"I am," she said, distractedly. "An old friend, we need to catch up… _there _she is!" Oddly enough her face didn't ignite in a bright smile, like Corvus imagined it would since it was 'an old friend.' Her expression remained thoughtful as she waved at a petite brunette woman sitting at the bar.

The woman gave a discreet nod, placed a few Galleons on the bar to pay for her untouched pint of Butterbeer and she got up. Leandra turned to Corvus and Max.

"You boys look underfed," she remarked as she opened her designer handbag, quickly pulling out her coin purse. She gave it to her son. "Order some food up to the room, I'll only be a minute."

"Who is she?" he asked. He noticed the woman hadn't approached them. Instead she left the busy tavern.

"Emmeline Vance, we used to work together," she replied quickly before kissing his cheek. He didn't have enough time to investigate further. Leandra practically disappeared after Emmeline Vance.

"What do you think that was about?"

"Last night," shot Max without hesitation. Last night's Death Eaters weren't the first think to come to Corvus's mind, he didn't have a clue actually about what his mother could be up to, but Max's guess made sense.

"It's not her mess to clean up, it's the Ministry's," he said sharply. Of course he figured the Ministry was incapable of actually doing that. After last night he had no faith in them. He bit his bottom lip, what was his mother up to? _An old friend…_ Someone from the Order of the Phoenix, the group her and Sirius were a part of during the war against You-Know-Who. He'd hoped that last night was just a one-of, it wasn't even verifiable that they were real Death Eaters. _Emmeline Vance,_ he'd commit the name to memory and in the meanwhile, he had to pull himself together.

He rattled the coin purse, "Are you hungry? Because we could put this money into Sal's account – we'll need a cash flow to get Daphne's project going."

"I can wait to eat at home."

**X  
X**

Emmeline led Leandra into Flourish and Blotts, she'd forgotten what a ridiculously faster walker the small witch was as she followed her to the back of the store. They were in the Defensive Magic section – basically all the books that came close to explaining the dark arts. Leandra wondered if this was Emmeline's attempt at humor.

"What was wrong with the Leaky Cauldron? There were enough people there to drown out our voices," she panted. Emmeline shook her head.

"Dedalus Diggle was there, you'd gotten in just when he'd hopped off to the loo," she explained. "He was chewing off my ear, love, and he was bound to do the same to you."

"Right, good thinking." Her eyes wandered over the books surrounding them. _The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts_ caught her eye. She pulled it from the shelf, muttering, "I've always wondered what they say about me in this…"

"I never found a rat. But something very interesting happened to Métis about four days ago."

Leandra looked up from the book, her eyes imploring Emmeline to report immediately.

"The hospital she'd left was investigating a rather large theft of medical supplies – all types of medicine," she explained in a low voice. "Now I don't remember the names of the stuff she stole – those Muggles have awfully complicated names for that sort of us, don't they?"

"Oh, yes, it's like an entirely different language," she agreed promptly, then grew serious again, "But did they hint at what kind of medicine it was? What it's use was?"

"Not really, but it sounded serious," she said. "They promised to come back with the authorities. Said they had it on – huh, video tape?"

"Yes, that exists. So they have evidence against her?"

"Apparently, but _they never came back_, Leandra. It stopped after that."

"The Muggles that came to her house, do you know if they're still…"

"I couldn't check on them, I was keeping an eye on Metis," she reminded her, "And looking for a mouse missing a paw."

"A rat missing a toe," she corrected. Emmeline gave her a stern look, "Sorry."

"Are you going to tell me what's up then, Lee?"

The Madame Crafter turned her gaze to the book again. It was open to the table of content; she saw one of the last chapters included a section about the Stirling Massacre. But she couldn't find the courage to skip to it… it could include photographs… and she would not risk seeing her brother's hideous face again.

"Not yet, Emmy," she sighed, shutting the book. "I've got to collect a few more pieces before I share this puzzle."

**X  
X**

Corvus kept by their room's window, peering down at all the jittery people outside. Their room at the Leaky Cauldron was one of the tavern's biggest. It was permanently under their name through the Stirling Tower. Corvus's great-grandfather on his mother's die had procured the room while he was Master Crafter. He had it connected to one of the family's townhouses via Floo Powder. The townhouse it was connected to was located on Benwell Road in Holloway, London.

Max and him had kept their school supplies in the room while they were at the World Cup. The two boys were mostly silent while they waited for Corvus's mother to return. Max sat with a new Potions book in hand while Corvus people-watched.

"I'm going to miss my train," his friend broke the silence. Corvus looked at his pocket-watch, he'd promised Max they'd drive him to the station. He still hadn't told his mother.

On cue, his mother came bursting into the room, her face flushed and her smile obviously forced. "Alright boys? Ready to go?"

"Mum, Max's not staying with us this week," he told her. "He's going back to Manchester."

"Have to take care of some stuff or what, before the school year," added Max.

"Oh," she frowned. "That's too bad, would've been nice having you. So you'll be needing a ride to the station, yes?"

Corvus blinked. That was it? Her thoughts were clearly elsewhere. Max seemed to've picked up on that too. He quickly glanced sideways at Corvus then back to his mother, "Huh, yeah, please – if it's not too much trouble."

She waved the question away nonchalantly and grabbed her wand from her handbag. "_Locomotor Lockers!"_

Their school supplies were lifted in the air and made to follow her out of the room. Uneasy, Corvus started after her with Max.

**X  
X**

They got Max to the station in time, mostly due to their red, sleek and _enchanted_ BMW. With a tap on the dashboard with her wand and slamming on the gas, the car would launch forward, becoming a blur that magically wedged between rows of cars and snaked around pedestrians to speedily race homewards.

It only took them an hour and a half to enter the county of South West England. Instead of taking the direction to the city, they went across the Avon Gorge and into Leigh Woods, a hilly area of woodland. Leandra slowed the car as they went onto a winding dirt road trekking upwards. They were in the northern part of the woods. The area comprised of a rich variety of ancient trees. Cruising through in their BMW was very relaxing for Corvus.

Gradually a mist grew along their route. This was a sign that they were nearly home. It grew so thick that it engulfed the entire car. His mother continued steering the car easily onwards. Soon the mist thinned, until finally they burst through it to arrive onto a gravel road. The car sped up as they drove up the road, coming parallel to a high, stonewall that ran along side them until they pulled up in front of iron gates. At the top of the gates was the Black family crest, it's motto _Toujours Pur_ engraved underneath it.

The gates opened instantly for them. They continued on the gravel road, it extended half a mile before them. At the end was a large round about outside an enormous red brick and stucco mansion. It was built in the Queen Anne style, with amazing complexity in its roof structure and a small tower to the side of the front façade.

He was home.

The car's engine had barely been turned off when Coco appeared outside Leandra's door, jumping up and down, frantically waving her out. Corvus wondered what could be so urgent, his mother practically Disapparated out of the car.

The house-elf delivered a letter to Leandra, it seemed to be a short letter because she cursed loudly in disappoint a few seconds later. The last time Corvus passively watched his mother behave suspiciously like this, things blew up in his face. He was going to step in this time, "What's going on mum?"

"Nothing dear."

"It doesn't sound like it," he snapped. For a moment she looked poised to scold him for taking that tone with her, but she refrained.

"I was hoping to squeeze in an appointment with someone at the Ministry but thanks to the chaos last night caused – he's booked for the week."

"Who's this? Another old friend?"

His luck was running out, "Corvus, please don't start."

But he had to be relentless. He followed her up to the door. "Is it about those Death Eaters? Who are you meeting?"

"No it is _not_ about those masked fools at the World Cup. And the person I want to meet – but have yet secured a scheduled rendezvous with – is Mad-Eye Moody. Who, from what I understand, is going to be your new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor."

"Mad-Eye?" he repeated, taken aback. "You mean _the _Mad-Eye Moody, the Auror?"

"Yes, now lets cease any further questioning," she stopped in her tracks, a very tired smile on her face. She studied her son before tousling his hair. "You don't have to worry about anything, okay? Merlin... you're too smart sometimes, Corvy, it can get annoying."

* * *

...

...

So it's a short chapter... sorry! If you feel that Max is a little too hard on Daph, don't worry that is something that will be developed later in the GoF parts. Until then, don't worry, Miss Greengrass knows how to hold her own :) Next chapter though they'll be on the Hogwarts Express! Corvus will finally have to wear his shiny new badge out in public! And won't everyone be surprised to see him with it! Filler chapter will come after the next chapter... soo two chaps from now... jolly good no?

Sorry to all the alert-people, I forgot to include something else in my a/n... I want to extend a big THANK YOU AND I LOVE YOU to everyone whose reviewed! There are some people who I can't reply to their reviews, and I've been meaning to give them a public thank you for a while... Sooo thank you Squid7000 and reflection!

pls R&R!


	9. Prefect Alliance

**Prefect Alliance**

Corvus had never wanted the school year to begin as badly as he did that final week of summer. He was itching to get back into his regular routine of monopolizing on the vices of Hogwarts's student body.

Letters were flying back and forth between the Salesmen. Daphne delivered the estimates two days earlier than Corvus had expected. He gave her the go-ahead to order a large stock of Tentettes and tons of ingredients for them to make their own. Anwar got in contact with his brother Jamal (the ghost-writer for all their clients who ordered essays from Sal's Guys.) Louis suggested they promote a gambling ring for when the Triwizard Tournament gets going. He was in the process of setting up the rules. Max was brewing his aging potions – and Corvus was brewing a few of those too.

And finally he'd figured out a creative way of abusing his title of Prefect. From what he could remember of his first year, Prefects usher them to the edge of the lake to sail across on boats with Hagrid. It's always important to hook some first-years – usually they'll remain loyal customers until they graduate. What Corvus was going to do was simple, he'd pass out business cards to the frightened, eager-faced first-years while his fellow Prefects weren't looking.

He'd bewitched two quills to help him write out the cards. The cards could be a smart idea for reaching out to whatever students come to Hogwarts from Beauxbatons and Durmstang. Every night he sat up in his room, hunched over his desk and the cards, writing the Salesmen's motto on one side then, on the back, the direction:

_Send a wish,__  
to Sal's Guy  
and wait for the rest…_

His bedroom was in the top floor of the polygonal tower that was beside the front façade of the house. It was one of the smaller bedrooms of the house. His bed was set beneath a window, facing the door. He had a desk, a few bookshelves and lots of framed photographs his mother had saved from before their sudden departure over thirteen years ago.

Other than that his bedroom was quite bare. He hadn't much time to decorate it. The only other time he'd been in this house, his home, was last Christmas vacation and then a week in June before hopping off to Costa Rica. This house used to be where he lived with his mother and father, when Corvus was still a baby.

It was also the last place his mother ever saw Corvus's uncle, Ascanius. He'd come to kill them all – only succeeding in killing his grandmother.

It bugged Corvus sometimes that everything about the house seemed to have some dark history to it. Not that he didn't enjoy being there. He'll admit that it's nice to have a permanent home; he particularly liked seeing the pictures of his father. His mother had framed every one of them, and he knew that.

Being at home in Bristol also gave him a lot of space, something that had been lacking severely in Costa Rica… They owned a lot of land here. They had a large lawn round the house and a forest stretched beyond it. Corvus spent some afternoons on his Cleansweep Seven just to get lost for hours. And since the house was a registered magical home, he got to practice a bit of Animagi while his mother was home – the house was big enough to hide it from her.

Two nights before the end of summer, he was staring at himself in the mirror, trying to work up the courage to dabble in self-transfiguration. He'd done it last year, though it'd been very amateurish. He'd tried to change his nose. It'd worked, it grew longer and wider, but it bled violently and it was _very _uncomfortable.

_That was a rash decision_, he reflected privately. It wasn't really a test of his abilities. _This is different… this is a lot easier… I'm just going to change the color of my eyebrows… _

He tentatively raised his wand, pointing it at his left eyebrow. It never occurred to him how much he liked his eyebrows; they really complimented the rest of his facial features…

"Quit being a pansy," he growled at the fifteen year old staring at him in the mirror. Taking a deep breath, he finally uttered the incantation. He felt a tingle round his left brow, and he watched in delight as his black eyebrow changed into crimson red – the exact color he'd been thinking about.

_KNOCK. KNOCK._

"Corvus?"

His mother was at his door. He quickly reversed the spell, checked his eyebrow was back to normal and he scrambled to unlock the door. His mother stood in her pajamas, looking positively exhausted. Her hair was up in a lopsided bun and her glasses her a little askew, as if she'd accidentally fallen asleep.

"Hey," she smiled. She stepped into his room, sitting down at the foot of his bed. Corvus discreetly checked that all his business cards were hidden. They were. "I won't be coming home tomorrow night. We've just signed on a new client, a vampire, so our working hours are going to be moved around a lot. Luckily this project will be passed onto Liz after we finish going over the blueprints. I won't have the time once the Tournament sets off to care for other clients."

"And how about your meeting with Alastor Moody?" he tried to ask casually. Of course his mother knew he would bring it up at some point.

"Hopefully I'll get to see him tomorrow too, squeeze him in before night fall."

"He's really going to be our teacher? Isn't he… you know, too valuable to the Ministry?" he frowned. "With Dark wizards back and all…"

"Letting Moody go won't be the first mistake the Ministry's made lately," she said dryly. "Anyway, I wanted to let you know I won't be here tomorrow. I'll be gone before you wake up, I'm sure. But Coco will be here."

He wanted to point out that he didn't need a babysitter, but he bit his tongue considering the house-elf was technically _always_ there.

**X  
X**

She hated when things ran late. Owls had been coming in and out of the Tower all week concerning estimates on the damages of people's tents. It nerved Leandra very much that the Ministry wasn't handling this on their own and felt they had to drag her into it. She figured this was just a show for the public, the Minister wanted to appear like he was using every resource available to patch things up.

The sun was already setting when she Apparated onto Moody's street. His house was quite remote, it sat at the end of a graveled road and you could just see the dim lights from neighboring houses on the horizon to the west. She was impressed to see that Mad-Eye kept the lawn orderly, it wasn't like he kept a garden or anything, but the grass was neatly trimmed. She'd always imagined that he'd be one of those types too wrapped up in his work to care about the state of his home.

_Being organized would reveal if anyone ever tampers with his things,_ it dawned on her. Moody probably started off every morning with scanning his yard for creased blades of grass. She smirked to herself as she rung the doorbell.

"Who's there?"

"Me."

There was a gruff, "Declare yourself!"

She rolled her eyes, "It is I, Leandra, here to speak to you, Mad-Eye."

The door opened slowly. The first thing Mad-Eye revealed of himself was his magical eye; it was swerving wildly in its socket, scanning Leandra. "Didn't have to get dressed up on my account."

Since she would have to go straight to her meeting with her vampire client, Bertram French, after speaking with Moody, she came wearing a black silk pantsuit. Her hair was straight and shining. She wore her glasses since her vision-charm had worn off and she didn't feel like bewitching her eyes again for the night.

"Are you kidding, Moody? It's the least I can do," she smirked. He let her into his house. It was a small, two-bedroom, one bathhouse. Looking around it looked more like a storage house than a private house. There were all kinds of Dark magic detectors, gadgets and things shelved away or hanging on the wall. Everything had some sort of order to them, either they were lined up by size or model.

Moody ignored her joke, as she expected. He offered her a seat at the only place possible in his house. There was a wooden round table by the kitchen area and four wooden seats. "Do you need tea?"

She fought the urge to laugh. "No thank you, I'm fine. I can't stay long."

"Good, I still have packing to do for tomorrow," he gestured with his wooden leg to the magical trunk by his back door. A few books were stacked next to it and an extra pair of boots.

"Corvus's excited to have you this year."

"Huh, so you told him already?"

"Yes I did, he made Prefect you know."

"What House?"

"Slytherin," she said proudly. "And he's as green as it gets, just like his mother and father."

"How did that ear trumpet work out?" Last year someone had anonymously sent Corvus an enchanted ear trumpet for Christmas. The trumpet allowed the user to hear everything within a mile radius, clear as day. Leandra had been wary of the gift, it could've been a trap, so she sent it to Moody to be checked for curses. Only once he'd okayed it did she let Corvus use it. They later found out it was Sirius who sent it to him.

"He's put it to use," she assured him. She wasn't stupid, she'd figured her son used it to help secure the Salesmen anonymity. For a moment she wondered if she should give Moody a heads up about her son's record at Hogwarts, but where was the fun in that? "I've come to talk about Ascanius," she jumped right into it, her smile gone.

Moody nodded, "I figured as much. News of his illness is floating round the Ministry, only a matter of time before it gets leaked to the press."

"Fudge is probably sitting on that press release," she said. "I reckon once the World Cup fiasco calms down he'll deliver the news. People will be happy to hear it."

"I don't trust it. None of this feels right."

"Something's definitely up," she agreed. It was a shame she couldn't share what she knew about Peter Pettigrew, she'd spent hours all week trying to come up with a plausible explanation about why she knew what she knew without having to give away Sirius. It was impossible. But she could share what Emmeline reported. She immediately recounted her cousin's strange behavior.

"Three weeks gone, she couldn't figure out what she might've been doing?"

"She found a receipt from Albania."

There was a lengthy pause. It was one of those rare occasions where both his normal eye and magical eye focused on the same thing, on Leandra. "You know the rumors."

This whole time she'd been trying not to draw that connection. It was ludicrous! Or that's what she kept telling herself. Yet it was the one theory that kept eating away at her, especially since she knew there was a possibility Pettigrew was involved too. "If the Dark Lord is hiding in Albanian… what can a filthy, spineless Squib offer him?"

"A damn good cover," he said sharply.

She sat back. A dark thought crossed her mind. "What if I step in, pull Métis out of whatever diabolical scheme she's dabbling in?"

The famous Auror was silent again, rubbing his scruffy chin thoughtfully. "We couldn't get away with it – it would have to be done through the Ministry."

Leandra cursed to herself. "That won't happen. Unless Fudge wants to make a spectacle out of it to garner support."

"I may get a few lads to look into it," he said. "Rufus Scrimgeour will hear us out, considering what we know. He's efficient, and discreet."

Rufus Scrimgeour had found Leandra while she was hiding as L. Blackstone. Apparently he'd been suspicious of her alias for years before Cornelius Fudge finally let him raid her house in light of Sirius's escape. So Leandra could concur with Moody's assessment of the Ministry's new Head of Magical Law Enforcement. "When can we meet with him?"

"I'll send him an Owl before leaving tomorrow morning."

Though they hadn't solved anything yet, and technically their theories about what was happening was growing worse, Leandra felt more at ease knowing she had Moody on the case with her.

**X  
X**

The weight of his Prefect badge was definitely felt the morning he left for King's Cross Station. It was raining heavily; he tried not to take this as a sign for things to come. He'd been so excited to return to school until he realized he wouldn't be enjoying the entire trip on the Hogwarts Express with his friends. The first half of it would be spent with the other Prefects.

"Oh, why don't you change into your robes now? I want to take a picture of you with your badge," his mother beamed up at him as he came down the stairs. Coco was balancing all his school things in her tiny arms, and she wouldn't let anyone help her. She practically snarled when Corvus offered to carry his own shoulder bag.

"You'll see me wear it some other time," he mumbled.

"Yes, but Sirius won't believe me unless I send a photo," she laughed. That certainly wasn't enough to convince him. They packed everything into the car and were promptly off to London.

When they got to the Station, Corvus and Leandra followed as Coco muscled her way through the crowd to the barrier between platform nine and ten. The house-elf got the usual nasty looks as she drove the trolley over people's feet and bumped into them. Thankfully she was so odd-looking and so far ahead of them that it wasn't clear that Corvus and Leandra were associated with her.

"Look, there's Max," his mother pointed ahead of them. Sure enough, as the crowd shifted, Corvus saw his friend a few feet away. He was about to call out to him, eager to get a few words in before leaving for his first official act as a Prefect, but then he noticed his friend wasn't alone.

Walking beside him was a girl with long, rippling black hair. He saw the profile of her face as she chatted with Max. It was Cho Chang.

"Is that his girlfriend?" his mother asked excitedly. Corvus could only shrug. Maybe this year would finally answer that question. It'd been a long time coming. They past through the barrier together, moments before Coco raced through it too.

Passing through the barrier himself, Corvus stepped onto platform nine and three-quarters, where the scarlet Hogwarts Express stood belching steam over the crowd. Max and Cho were gone from sight.

"Does Master Corvus need Coco to finds him an empty seat?" Coco asked hopefully. She was still wearing Bulgarian and Irish colors. He didn't even reply, he grabbed his things and started to pile them onto the train.

"I'll probably see you in November," his mother told him as she hugged him. A group of girls nearby giggled as she kissed him on the cheek. By the looks of them they were second or third years, he'd find them later. "Be good until then, Corvy."

"I'm a Prefect now, of course I will," he rolled his eyes. His mother and Coco waved from the platform as the final whistle was blown. As the train turned a corner and the platform disappeared with his mother and house-elf, Corvus decided it was time to go find the Prefect carriage. In the letter it said it was at the very front of the train.

He dragged his trunk down the corridors. Naturally the train was crowded, but he felt particularly vulnerable this time wondering through its corridors alone. He was afraid someone was going to ask him why he wasn't in his usual compartment with his usual entourage. The Salesmen had long ago established compartment E as their own.

"Hey Corvus."

He froze in his track, and slowly turned back to find his ex-girlfriend, Morag MacDougal standing outside a compartment door. She was leaning against the wall, fixing him with a sly look and she played with a strand of her hair. It had gotten longer and it was curled. She looked very pretty, as she always had.

"How was your summer?"

Why was she talking to him? This did not bode well for him, not at all. Either she was setting up a trap or she was… back to liking him. He really hoped it was a trap. "Alright," he said hesitantly.

"I heard about how things ended with you and Daphne Greengrass."

"Huh?"

"How you dumped her, silly," she explained with a giggle. Dread washed over him when he finally remembered that last year, in the last effort to get MacDougal out of his life, Daphne acted as his new girlfriend. It had worked, MacDougal was furious of course, but it worked. She didn't bother him anymore. But now supposedly Daphne was out of the picture…

"And you still...?" he was dumbfounded by how persistent she was. And Corvus was confident that he'd been a bad boyfriend, the whole relationship had been bad! "I've got somewhere to be, MacDougal, a-and don't talk to me."

The last thing he saw as he turned away was her face twisting into an angry, dangerous scowl. He had his hand on his wand in case things got ugly, but all she did was stomp her foot, give a loud huff and she slammed the compartment door behind as she returned. He silently prayed that MacDougal wasn't going to cause him any trouble beyond that.

He passed onto the next cart and found Xiomara Brazda, a girl in his year and Slytherin, chatting with some friends in the corridor. She was already wearing her school robes and he got the glint of her Prefect badge. Brazda was a model student; with Max and Corvus she was top of their year. She was very pretty too, tall and skinny with mocha skin and short black hair. From what Corvus knew, Louis and her had been a thing briefly last year.

As Corvus entered the cart, Brazda turned to wave. The girls she was talking to look at him too, one of them being Milvina Fox, Louis's ex-girlfriend. She crossed her arms and fixed Corvus with a steely gaze.

_Is it only past girlfriends riding this train today? _

"What are you doing here?" she asked icily.

"Is Max on his way to the prefect carriage?" interrupted Brazda, sounding very business-like. "There are a few things I want to discuss with him, if we're going to be working together as our year's Prefects. It's important we come up with how we're going to approach this year –"

"Actually," he cut her off hesitantly, "Max isn't the other prefect."

"He isn't?" she frowned deeply. She was about to ask who it was when she figured it out on her own. Her jaw dropped, as did Milvina Fox's.

"_No_," breathed Milvina. Corvus nodded. "I don't believe it, it has to be Max. Or if not him, _Anwar_ or…" her face dropped, she'd almost said Louis's name probably.

"It makes sense," determined Brazda. Her dark eyes were sizing Corvus up. She repeated her conclusion, "It makes sense."

"I'm assuming it did, since Dumbledore sent me the badge," he drawled. He nodded his head towards the door to the next cart leading to the prefect carriage, "Lets go then."

Brazda waved her friends away. They obediently went back into their compartments. Milvina gave Corvus one last critical look before sliding the door close. Once they were gone, Brazda turned to Corvus, "This changes things, you being the other prefect."

"What? How does this change anything?"

"This whole summer I've been picturing me and Max working together –"

"All summer? You knew you were going to be prefect?"

"Well, duh," she said confidently. "I've been working on getting this badge since first year." Corvus felt vaguely guilty that he'd never once thought about being prefect. He'd completely dismissed the possibility. He didn't want it or need it as far as he was concerned. "I've kept up all my grades, never got detention, I make a point to assist others in class _and_ every Christmas I've sent Chocolate Frogs to our professors."

"Kiss up."

"It got me where I wanted to be, hasn't it?" she returned. He couldn't fault her on that. "You of course know the statistics of how many Ministers started off as prefects," he didn't but he let her continue, "but first I have to become Head Girl. So this year and next will be paramount to my future success."

"Guess it will be…"

"Are your sights on Head Boy?"

He arched an eyebrow. "I don't even want to be prefect."

This shocked her. "But… but you've come this far, how could you not want to be Head Boy? It's the next step."

"Next step to what? Minister? Isn't that your dream?"

"Good point," she reflected. She eyed him, warily. "But you understand Dumbledore and the rest of the faculty will be evaluating us on our behavior as role models." He cringed at the term.

"And you'll do fine, I'm sure."

"Clearly," she agreed, "But it's you I'm concerned with. With Max I was fairly confident he'd be easy to manage. He's nice, mild-tempered, likable –"

"I'm likable," he said.

"Listen," she put a hand on his shoulder. They were nearly eye-to-eye in height. "I need your cooperation. How is it going to look if I can't even exert authority over my fellow prefect? I need you to make me look good, Corvus."

He scoffed, "Get over yourself, Brazda. I'm going to do what I do no matter what fairytale dreams you've got."

"You're not going to do anything out of the kindest of your heart, I figured as much," she told him dryly. "As with Max, I figure the position of prefect will be exploited for the sake of the Salesmen –"

"Vile accusations –"

"But you shouldn't be so naïve to think you'll get away with it so easily," she continued, smirking now. "You'll just be one prefect, you'll still need to watch your back and I guarantee things will get very sticky should the other prefects decide to gang up on you. You do know who the other prefects are, don't you?"

Corvus was quiet. This didn't sound good. He now imaged the prefect carriage being filled with unfriendly faces, of people he'd crossed and left very angry.

"So, if you agree to _behave_ as my partner as a prefect, I will watch your back and I will give you a heads up whenever I have night patrol or if I hear anything that could provide the Salesmen a loophole or something like that," she said. "Deal?"

"What do you mean _behave?_"

"Deal or no deal, Corvus Black?"

"Deal," he caved. They shook on it. With their treaty out of the way, Brazda helped him move his trunk through the corridor. "I never pegged you to be so ruthless, Brazda." It was a compliment.

"Please you're not the only one with a plan. And if we're going to act as the dream team, you better call me 'Mara.'"

"Okay, Mara," he laughed.

**X  
X**

They were the last of the new prefects to enter the prefect carriage. The first cart wasn't broken up into compartments like the rest of them, instead there were rows of double seats. They were filled with the other prefects, all of them turned to see who'd arrived fashionably late.

"No – way," someone practically shouted. A sneer sprung up on Corvus's face when he saw whom it was. A slightly pudgy boy with brown hair and a freckled face glared at him.

"Cheers, Curtis."

"You're not a prefect," he snapped. Corvus had hexed Curtis a few times, sporadically since first-year really.

"Yes I am," he told him kindly. Curtis's face grew redder. Mara grabbed a hold of Corvus's arm and squeeze, imploring him to bite his tongue. She pulled him to sit down beside her.

"Okay I think everyone's here," the Head Boy said, getting to his feet quickly with a bright smile on his face. The Head Girl hopped up to stand with him at the front. They looked like a pair of perfect politicians.

"There's always a wildcard when it comes to Dumbledore," the Head Girl told Curtis sweetly. "And you'll be surprised what kind of person makes up the right kind of prefect."

"That's right, Holly," said her partner. "But we'll get to that later, I think first we should go around and introduce ourselves. I'm sure we all have some idea about who everyone is in here –"

"Probably just by face, we know how it is," Holly chirped. They both took a moment to laugh.

"So we'll save everyone from appearing rude, by going around saying our name, what house your in and a little fact about yourself – like where you're from or a favorite hobby. I'll start. I'm Eric Greene from Ravenclaw and… and I like wizard chess!"

Corvus also knew that Eric Greene ordered two vials of Scintillation Solution last February. The Head Girl, Holly Spencer, bought loads of Pixie Dust each year to use on her otherwise limp, lifeless hair. All the seventh year prefects had been customers. Out of the sixth years only Sue Lee of Ravenclaw hadn't been a customer of Sal's Guy.

"I'm Cedric Diggory, from Hufflepuff and grew up in Ottery St. Catchpole," he shyly said, finishing up the old prefects. Ironically Diggory was the very first customer, Corvus had sold him a Morgan le Fey Chocolate Frog card for over twelve Galleons.

Now they were onto the new prefects. Gilligan Curtis introduced himself, and Corvus made sure to cough in the middle of it. The other Gryffindor prefect was Vicky Frobisher. She'd contacted Sal's Guys for a love potion her second year.

Ashley Fenlaw and Kumiko Okada were the Ravenclaw prefects. They were both extremely soft spoken, and both of them had used Sal's Guys to write all their Lockhart essays.

Stephan Moore was the Hufflepuff prefect. He bought a few Dungbombs last year.

"I'm Mary Ford," Moore's female counterpart said brightly. She had short, wavy chestnut brown hair and a big smile. The only time he'd had a class with Hufflepuff was his first year for their flying lesson. He vaguely remembered Mary Ford, but what he did remember was that smile. He imagined she smiled a lot. "I'm in Hufflepuff and… I didn't know I was a witch until I got my Hogwarts letter!"

"Oh, how exciting that must've been!" responded Mara. Throughout the entire process she'd try to react to every mundane fact about each person. "You must be proud, I've heard you're really clever in class."

Corvus wanted to throw up.

"Thank you," she blushed. "I'm not exactly Muggleborn, well, because my father is a Squib. He just never thought he'd pass down the gene so he never told us!"

"What a surprise!" cheered Holly Spencer. She looked to Mara to continue.

"I'm Xiomara Brazda, Slytherin," she proudly pointed to her badge, "And I spent this last summer volunteering at St. Mungo's."

There was a murmur of admiration. Corvus was the last one, the entire time he'd been coming up with the perfect introduction; "I'm Corvus Black, I'm in Slytherin and I'm the sole heir to both the Stirling and Black family fortune, making me – probably – the richest wizard, underage, in all of England which doesn't hinder me from sucking the pocket-money dry from all of you every school year."

But in light of his new alliance with Mara, he held back and instead politely said, "I'm Corvus Black, I'm in Slytherin and I like to draw."

Mara gave him an appreciative nod. There was a pause, everyone knew better than that mild description of Corvus Black. But Holly and Eric quickly picked things back up again.

"This year is going to be _our most exciting year_," stressed Holly. "I'm not exaggerating! Am I Eric?"

"No, she is not," he said. "It's actually, pretty historical, I'd say."

"No one else will know until this evening," Holly explained, "But as prefects, you'll find out _right now._"

Corvus felt he knew what this was about. He raised his hand. "Is this about the Triwizard Tournament?"

The stupid smiles on Holly and Eric's faces dropped. "Wha – yes…"

"How did you know?"

"My mother's been commissioned by the Ministry to construct the stadiums for the events," he said promptly, trying not to sneer at having burst their bubble.

"Triwzard Tournament? What's that?" asked Mary Ford. Shaking off their disappointment, Holly and Eric started passing out pamphlets about the event.

"We won't known the specifics of the tournament of course," said Eric as everyone else read over the paper. Corvus noticed that Cedric Diggory didn't need to look it over, his father had probably told him about it too. "But as prefects we'll be responsible about maintaining order once things get underway."

"There's going to be a lot of things that need to be organized, such as decorations for the Yule Ball," grinned Holly. "And it's important that we make our guests feel comfortable, welcomed and at home really."

"Yes, we want to come up with some ideas about mixers, ice-breakers. Fun stuff like that, that we can have between the Tasks."

Mara pinched Corvus's elbow. "Ouch!"

"Why didn't you tell me about the Tournament?" she hissed, holding up the pamphlet to hide her face. She was scowling at him.

"I dunno."

"We could've come to this meeting prepared with ideas," she told him. "Now we look entirely complacent –"

"No came with a list of ideas," he reminded her.

"But you knew," she snapped. "To them, it'll look like we both knew and did nothing."

He sighed exasperatedly. He focused his attention on the Holly and Eric show again. Once they'd finish talking about the Tournament, they explained how patrol shifts worked and passed out the passwords to the houses, the prefect bathroom and Dumbledore's office. The sixth years were sent out to patrol the train's corridors then, and Corvus with the other fifth years would be in charge of ushering the first-years to the Great Lake once they arrived.

It seemed like it had taken forever, but Corvus was finally set free to return where he belonged, with the Salesmen in compartment E.

* * *

...

...

So here's a nice juicy long chapter! Sadly I couldn't elegantly squeeze in a scene of Corvus getting back to compartment E, I felt it needed to end here. Next REAL chapter though... Corvus has a brief run in with Draco and the Gryffindor Trio on his way back to compartment E... Daphne will start stage one of the Tentettes initiative AND explain what happened with MacDougal... Corvus and Mara will act as shepherds to the first years... Dumbledore explains the Triwizard Tournament...

As for the filler chapter, it will be ridiculously long! Yay! It will include... Max and Cho enjoying pie... Corvus and Curtis's strife's beginning... Jeremy being friends still with the Salesmen... Claude shirtless!... Anna scouting for future players for Slytherin... Claire juggling men and giving a patch of first-year girls their first glimpse of Sal's Guys... Anwar and Jamal being brothers... Louis gets detention... Max accidentally wins Eloise Midgeon's heart... and Daphne tells Pansy to mind her own beeezzzzzwaxxx

Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! R&R pls!


	10. Piece of Pie

**Piece of Pie**

Kids were running between compartments, excited and happy to see each other. It made her feel like she was the only stranger. She tried to make herself small when a line of older boys rushed by through the corridor on the Hogwarts Express, they were laughing about something to do with Dungbombs. After they past she continued to tuck along with her school trunk and suitcase.

It was her first day at Hogwarts. She felt ill, she just wanted to go back to her parents, back to Glasgow and away from all these people who seemed to know each other and didn't care about her. But the train was slowly beginning to move. She had to find somewhere to sit.

Every compartment was filled with happy groups of friends, until she came upon compartment F6, where a lone boy sat. He was sitting Indian style in his seat, hunched over reading the latest _Transfiguration Today_. Dirty blonde hair draped his face, but she could see his sharp azure eyes and those rather thick dark eyebrows. Stacked on the seat next to him were textbooks, some she knew as required first-year books, but others she didn't recognize. On top of the stack of books was a white box tied with a red ribbon.

The white box and red ribbon looked pretty, and the boy looked nice enough. It was obvious he was alone too. She went inside.

The blonde boy looked up when she slid the door open. She was afraid that he might look at her with dislike or something, but he just nodded at her. "Hey," she said meekly.

"Do you need help?" his feet unfolded beneath him, ready to stand up if she needed him to. She shook her head, feeling shy but relieved that he was being nice. His accent was a little strange, definitely British, but mixed with something else. He got himself comfortable again, returning to his reading. After putting her things away, she sat down across from him.

It took her a while to smell the delicious scent of something in the air. She took a big whiff of it, loving it and desperate to know what it was.

"Oh, that's probably the pie." She frowned at him. He was blushing a little when he pointed to the white box on top of his books. "It's a blueberry pie, my mom made me take it with me."

"Wow, it smells great," she told him happily.

"You can have some," he told her and folded the page in the magazine.

"Oh no, I couldn't," she said modestly. But her stomach suddenly felt empty and starving. The boy took the box and untied the ribbon. As the box was opened, her mouth started to salivate from the intense aroma.

The boy neatly picked up a piece of the pie in a napkin for her. "It's okay, my mum wants me to share it," he explained, "She thinks it's the best way to make friends."

"It does help," she said before taking a bite.

"It's sort of stupid though," he gave a half-smirk, "I mean who carries around a blueberry pie on their first day?"

"But this is really good pie! I'm sure you'll make loads of friends." They laughed. "You're a first year too?" she asked. He nodded. "My name's Cho, by the way. Cho Chang."

"I'm Maxwell Love," he introduced himself.

"Love? Your surname's Love?" she grinned. He looked embarrassed.

"Yeah."

"I like it," she decided. "Maxwell Love has a nice ring to it."

"So does Cho Chang," he returned the compliment. She took another bite; it was one of the best things she's ever eaten! She was definitely going to help herself to another slice. "Do you know what house you want to be sorted in?" he asked her.

She shrugged. "All the houses are lovely, I think, except for Slytherin. My mom says the meanest people are always in Slytherin."

"They're the most ambitious ones," Maxwell said. "I read this article that took a poll of which House had the most popularity outside of Hogwarts. Slytherin was ranked the lowest, but the poll was taken in the mid-80's and the demographics of the sample group were totally biased."

"You sound like you'll be in Ravenclaw," Cho smiled.

"Really?" he seemed happy to hear her say this. "I wouldn't mind any house, except for Hufflepuff."

"What do have you against them?"

"They're rather bland or what, aren't they?" he gave a half-smirk again, but then became worried, "I didn't mean to offend, if you know, your parents or someone was in Hufflepuff."

"No, my father was in Ravenclaw and my mother, Gryffindor," she assured him. "And your parents?" she took the final bite of her piece of pie.

He shifted a little in his seat, hesitating and looking timid. "My parents never went to Hogwarts," Maxwell admitted. "I'm the first in our family."

This boy was a Muggleborn! Her father told her that for these past six years, more Muggleborns than ever were attending Hogwarts. She tried to recover from her oversight; she smiled cheerfully, "Well that must be exciting."

"Hopefully I won't be too far behind. I've been doing a lot of reading," he said quietly.

"I can see," she grinned. She looked at the textbooks; almost all of them had notes sticking out of its pages. "You've even taken notes?"

"Not really notes, just you know, some things I want to test out once I get settled," he said and picked up one of the books, flipping to the first marked page. "Like here I want to try this cleaning spell, could you imagine how much time you'd save with that?"

"Are you excited about taking Flying Lessons?"

His enthusiasm faltered, "Sure. Maybe we'll learn how to enchant broomsticks too, that would be really useful."

"How about Quidditch? I can't wait to watch the games, Hogwarts has always had brilliant teams."

"Quidditch seems rather… stupid."

"What? How could you say that!" she was flabbergasted.

"All you need is a Seeker, everyone else on the pitch is obsolete," Maxwell tried not to offend, but he was being honest.

"A Seeker does finish the game, but he doesn't necessarily win the game," she tried to make him see reason. "Everyone is important, Chasers, Beaters and the Keeper have to coordinate-"

"Yeah but the Seeker earns on average 15 times as many points as Chasers do per game," Maxwell informed her. Cho felt her face get hot. This boy was annoying her, how could he deny the brilliance that was Quidditch! "Sorry, but the game's completely unbalanced."

"You're strange, Maxwell Love," Cho shook her head, sighing. "But you bring amazing pie, so I can't really hate you."

Maxwell laughed. "I'll write my mum and tell her that."

Cho titled her head and asked, "Where are you from? You talk a bit funny."

"Oh, huh, well, my mum's American, but I grew up in Manchester," he told her. "I live there now, my entire life, except for some holiday trips to the States."

"That's cool, I've always wanted to go to America," Cho beamed.

"And you're Scottish?"

"Well, my parents are from Chinese descent, but I live in Glasgow," she nodded.

"Yeah, you sound a bit funny too," he gave his half-smirk a third time.

The two of them continued to make conversation. Cho didn't need to buy anything from the snack cart when it came by. She had the blueberry pie to keep her satisfied.

**X  
X**

**Itching to Sting**

Arriving at Hogwarts, Corvus Blackstone was finally allowed to use his wand. It was made of ivy, 13 ½" long with a core of phoenix feather. He twirled it between his fingers, golden sparks shooting out. Without knowing how to explain it, he felt the urge to try out a Stinging Hex. He'd read about it and he'd waited long enough.

He was filing into the Entrance Hall antechamber with the rest of the first years. His grey eyes looked around for a potential target. He couldn't just _cast_ a Stinging Hex, it wouldn't mean anything if it weren't done in a duel. Whenever you do magic, it has to be _meant_.

"What House do you want to be in?" he asked a boy beside him. The boy had light, feathery blonde hair and piercing blue eyes.

"Slytherin," he replied without hesitating. He had a mischievous spark behind his eyes. Corvus felt an immediate kinship with him.

"Me too." He offered his hand, "My name's Corvus Blackstone."

"Louis Vaisey."

Corvus nudged the person next to him, a boy with olive skin and spiky black hair who Corvus had already made friends with on the Hogwarts Express. "He does too."

The other boy nodded. "I'm Anwar Rajan."

"Hey you," Corvus used a Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Bean from the bag he bought on the school train to throw at a boy nearby who was speaking to a group of other boys. He didn't appreciate the interruption. "What House do you want to be in?"

The boy held his head a little higher. "_I'm _going to be in Gryffindor."

Anwar made a derisive noise. "What's your problem?" the Gryffindor-to-be demanded.

"Like I'm going to tell you," Anwar retorted.

"I'm sure he's just thinking the same thing as me," interrupted Corvus calmly.

"Yeah? And what's that?"

"That it will be amusing to see where a Troll like you ends up," he said. "I mean you'll be the first ever to attend Hogwarts, won't you? Your mother must be proud."

Louis laughed, and didn't hesitate to join in, "Yeah, did she shed a few tears when she saw you off at the station?"

Corvus gave his fellow Slytherin-to-be an appreciative nod.

"Shut up about my mum!"

"Yes, I much rather discuss you being a troll," Corvus continued. "Though the story of your mother giving _birth _to a troll would be fascinating as well, I'm sure."

The boy viciously grabbed his wand out of the pocket of his robes, but somehow he managed to drop it in the process. As it clattered to the floor, Corvus and his friends sniggered loudly.

"Oh, you probably should leave that there," Corvus sneered when the other boy went to pick up his wand. "We'll be called in for the Sorting any minute now, besides you don't want to duel me. You'll hurt yourself."

"You think you're something special?" the boy hissed.

Corvus shrugged.

"Well you know what? I think you need to be shut up!"

"Do you?"

"I'm not afraid of you!"

"Of course you're not, I mean if you're bound for _Gryffindor_…"

"That's right! I'll take you on any day!"

"How about today then?"

This startled the boy. "Today?"

"Oh sorry, I meant _tonight._"

"Tonight?"

"You don't understand English?" leered Louis.

Anwar turned to Corvus, "Maybe you should switch to Troll."

"SHUT UP!"

He had terrible timing, because McGonagall just returned to the antechamber, she was shocked to hear the boy scream so terribly. It would be the first of many times that Corvus saw her lips go dangerously thin.

"Young man, you will behave yourself!" she said sternly. Corvus stuffed the bag of sweets back in his pocket. Louis and Anwar politely folded their hands behind their backs. Surprisingly, the other boy didn't try to tell McGonagall about them, he only glared at them. They queued up along the walls of the Great Hall and awaited their Sorting. As fate would have it Corvus, Louis and Anwar were sorted in Slytherin while the other boy, whose name was Gilligan Curtis, was placed in Gryffindor. McGonagall gave him a pointed look as he left to join her House's table.

After dinner, Corvus snaked through the crowded hall to catch up with Curtis. He told him to meet him at midnight in the Trophy hall and that night they dueled. It was kind of a let down. Curtis was complete rubbish. The Gryffindor probably thought that like him, Corvus wouldn't know proper hexes. You should never underestimate your opponent.

Corvus's Stinging Hex worked quite well. It sent Curtis into a frantic mess and he wailed like a baby.

Then in the blink of an eye it was over, Filch caught them and Corvus was given his first detention.

**X  
X**

**Scouting **

It was three-thirty in the afternoon on a Thursday, the day and time when the Slytherin first years would have their first flying lesson. They were scheduled to learn with Hufflepuff, but of course Anna wasn't interested in them. She had a legacy to preserve as captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team.

"I got the tea, Anna," Marcus Flint offered her the cup as he joined her on the castle's front steps. As she was a seventh year and was only doing three NEWT level courses, she had plenty of free periods, which meant more time could be dedicated to Quidditch. Marcus Flint on the other hand was skipping History of Magic.

"I said no crème, but never mind," she said. She shoved the cup back into his hands, "And it's not for me, you dolt, it's for you."

Flint's cheeks went a little red. Obviously she knew he had a crush on her. While Claire adored the attention from the boys, Anna found it to be a hassle as a Quidditch player. While at Hogwarts she'd let her light blonde hair grow out to shoulder length. She also had a small mole above the corner of her mouth that boys seemed to like a lot. Anna understood she was the prettiest girl on the pitch every game, but she'd taught everyone never to underestimate her for it.

"Come on," she sighed exasperatedly. She led the way onto the grounds. It was an alright day to fly, a little cloudy and the breeze was almost on the strong side. But she was confident a good flyer would be fine in such weather. They marched down the sloping lawns towards a smooth, flat lawn on the opposite side of the grounds to the forbidden forest.

"And did you bring parchment and a quill?" she asked, seeing none on him. She muttered darkly under breath as she took out the supplies herself from her bag. "Marcus, you seriously need to be taking names. You can't afford being lazy, Slytherin is losing a lot of good players with my year graduating."

"Yeah, I don't reckon we can ever replace you, Anna, you're the best Keeper in Hogwarts," he said shyly. If he'd tried a line like that during practice, she'd order him to do thirty laps.

"Drink the tea, Marcus," she told him. "They're starting."

Anna remembered the process. Twenty broomsticks were lying in neat lines on the ground. All the nervous looking first years were standing beside a broomstick. Madam Hooch stood at the front. She ordered them to stick out their right hands over the broom and say;

"UP!" Anna heard them shout. As she expected only a few of the brooms jumped into their flyer's hand. She was very pleased to note that her brother's had been one of them.

"Louis Vaisey," she dictated to Flint. He had to juggle drinking his tea and writing down names, he barely managed. "That girl… Something Brazda… Corvus Blackstone… who's that girl?"

He looked up. "Huh…"

"Bryony Pettings, I think. We'll speak to her later in the commons," she said. "Louis's always showed potential as a Chaser. That Bryony girl has the looks of a Seeker, keep an eye on her because it's Higgs last year next year."

"And Brazda?"

"Maybe another Chaser? Of course there'll be the second years and third years to consider too, they might surprise you in the try-outs," she told him. "Are you finished with the tea?"

"Almost," he quickly downed the rest of it.

"Now, I don't know for sure if you'll be named captain," she said carefully, "But Snape pretty much said so last night when I asked him. It's either you or Montague, who I've already told and I'm telling you too, Miles Bletchley should be picked for Keeper, unless by some freak chance someone better comes along in try-outs we don't know about."

"All done," he held the cup out for her. She frowned.

"Did you hear what I said?"

He nodded vigorously, "Yes, Anna, Miles Bletchley for Keeper."

She took the teacup to study Flint's tealeaves. "Oh dear…"

"What?" Flint said panicked.

"You were thinking _only_ about next year's Quidditch season, right?"

"Yes, why? What's the matter?"

"Well… I should go consult with Professor Trelawney to be sure," she said thoughtfully. "Divination _is _the most difficult of all magical arts, sometimes you need someone else's gaze to lead you."

Holding the teacup as steadily as possible she slowly made her way back to the castle. Marcus Flint was torn between staying and watching the first years and going with her. Anna of course made the decision for him, shouting over her shoulder back at him, "Stay and study!"

**X  
X**

**Pretzel's Story Time**

Jeremy Petzold was hurrying through the aisles of towering bookshelves. He was in the library, a week into his very first term at Hogwarts. He paused to look round at a few nearby desks. He was almost bouncing on the balls of his feet. It was absolutely paramount he finds his fifth roommate and brings him back to the Slytherin commons.

"… it's not that bad, no one's asked me about it or what…"

"If you just _ask_ Professor Dumbledore –"

"No, I told you, that would be stupid," Jeremy knew that voice, that _accent –_ it was Maxwell Love, the roommate he was looking for. He didn't even comprehend what his fellow Slytherin was saying; his own mission was too urgent to eavesdrop!

He peered round the corner of another bookshelf. He found Max sitting at a table with Cho Chang, both of them had stacks of reading material beside them. They both saw Jeremy at once, and their mouths clamped shut.

"Max!" he hissed and waved him over. Max whispered something quickly to Cho before calmly walking over to Jeremy.

"What?"

"You have to come to the dungeons, _now_," he said excitedly. His face was lit up like a Christmas tree. His black beady eyes twinkled practically. But no matter how much excitement he exuded, Maxwell Love remained uninterested.

"I'm studying."

"Rubbish, leave it! The seventh years want all the first-years in the commons in like _two_ minutes," he explained, his voice well above a whisper. Max's azure eyes shifted, looking for Madam Pince who was surely going to appear. "They're going to tell us the _real history_ of Slytherin – the history that dirty rag of a hat didn't sing about, because he was too afraid I bet."

There was a slight squeaking noise passing through the aisles, approaching them. As someone who didn't spend a lot of voluntary time in the library, Jeremy didn't heed this sign. Max on the other hand knew it was one of Madam Pince's shoes that made the faint sound.

"Jeremy, you should lower your voice…"

"Can you imagine it? These stories have been past down from generations of Slytherins, and now _we're_ being granted it," he talked over him. "This is what Slytherin is all about, preservation, honor –"

"_SHHH!" _

Jeremy flinched as Madam Pince swooped in a surprise attack. Her parchment-like skin was flushed and her shriveled face twisted in a nasty scowl, "This is a _library_ not a – not a playground for rowdy boys."

"I – I'm sorry," he whimpered. It was usual for most students to become petrified by the underfed vulture that guarded the library.

"If you're not here for books, _leave immediately_."

"Y-yes ma'am."

Like a dog sent home with his tail between his legs, Jeremy tried to get out as quickly as he could without running. He was still feeling the sting of utter humiliation when he got to the first floor.

"Jeremy! Wait up!"

He turned around. Maxwell Love was running after him, his book bag packed to the rim with his books. Jeremy smiled at him, "You're coming?"

"Couldn't miss it, right?"

**X  
X**

**Certain Measure of Pride**

As per usual, Snape sat at the staff table for dinner. He scanned the Great Hall as students slowly filled the tables. Professor Sprout took the seat next to him. She looked uncharacteristically sour.

"Eddie Coster's tongue is still shriveled up like dry fruit," she said. "His parents weren't pleased, at all, Severus. He's missed half a semester already, completely bed-ridden the poor lad."

"His skin's stopped peeling off," he replied. "That's good news."

"Not good enough. His parents want whoever is responsible to get punished, I can't blame them. That was a horrible curse."

"Indeed it was," he calmly drank from his glass of pumpkin juice. The Head of Slytherin looked over to his House's table. His black eyes glanced over the faces of his students until he got to the middle of the table, where a particular group of first years sat. There were five of them.

Sprout followed his gaze, "I trust you'll make time to investigate your house a little more carefully, Severus? This hasn't been the first incident."

"No, it hasn't. Nor has any of these incidents been linked to anyone in Slytherin."

"No point in playing dumb, Severus, we know what they call themselves –"

"That name could be a diversion."

"Or it could be their way of showing off."

He tried not to smile. As ridiculous as it sounds, Snape held a certain measure of pride for this infamous group. This group that had as of yet escaped discovery. This group that had the power to bed-rid anyone in a split second, should they try and betray them.

"Salazar's Salesmen," she shook her head as she spoke their name. "It's only a matter of time before they get themselves caught."

Snape doubted that. If they really were Slytherins, they would never get caught.

**X  
X**

**Handsome Spring Day**

Exam week had ended, several sixth and seventh years were enjoying the lovely spring weather outside. Claude lay back on the grass by the lake's bank, his head in the lap of Maggie Gardens – arguably the most attractive sixth year.

Anna and Claire were also outside by the lake. After graduating Anna was going to try out as Keeper for the Holyhead Harpies. Of course she was going to try out for other teams as well, but the Holyhead Harpies was her top choice. To prepare for the tryout she'd forced the Slytherin Quidditch team to train with her.

Claire came to watch with a group of her girlfriends, they sat underneath the beech tree with a bowl of fresh strawberries they got from the kitchens.

"But I'm a Seeker," Terence Higgs nearly whined. His face was wet with sweat. The sun was beating down on them relentlessly.

"Yes, well, Higgs, I'm still captain of this team," Anna reminded him sharply. Claire and her friends giggled.

"Terry, I never knew you threw like a girl," she smirked. The rest of the team chuckled while Terence Higgs blushed.

"Is Higgs dating Claire?" asked Maggie, watching the group on their broomsticks. Claude laughed.

"He's still in the 'begging like a dog' stages of that," he replied. She smiled down at him, petting his sandy blonde hair fondly. She always noted how light seemed to dance across his dark blue eyes.

"Just think, this time next year, we'll be done with _everything_," she said. "Isn't that a scary thought?"

He was quiet, his eyes tracking the Quaffle as it was passed from Flint to Montague before there was an attempt of a goal. Anna blocked it effortlessly, she shouted at them to pick up the tempo.

"Where do you think _we'll_ be next year?" Maggie continued asking, curling a strand of his hair round her small finger. "We're going to have to decide what our future plans are you know… start thinking about settling down…"

He sat up suddenly, nearly causing Maggie to gasp. It took a lot of restraint not to reach out for him again. He looked over his shoulder at her, lips pulled into his usual teasing smirk. "It's hot."

She blinked. What – what was he _saying_?

Without another word he pulled off his robe, then the shirt underneath. Maggie nearly choked. What was he doing? Claude tossed his robe aside and looked at Maggie again, his hair eschewed… he looked wild.

"This is better," he said. She hardly heard him though; she was too taken aback as she noticed him leaning in to her. His eyes slowly shut, his lips searched for hers…

_WHACK_!

There was an explosion of laughter. The Quidditch team was practically rolling in mid-air on their brooms, overcome by hilarity. Claude reached to touch the back of his head, it was stinging with pain. Someone had hurled the Quaffle at him.

"How's that for throwing like a girl, Vaisey?" Terence Higgs asked smugly, addressing Claire. She was trying not to smile back at the Seeker.

"What Claude really needs is someone to dump a bucket of cold water on him," said Anna. "Lets get the Quaffle going again, boys."

* * *

...

...

Okay so this filler chapter idea really got BIG quick, so I decided it be best split them up into two chapters, the next one will be posted in a few minutes...

enjoy R&R!


	11. To be Welcomed

Here is the rest of the filler chapter!

* * *

**To Be Welcomed**

Max almost forgot how hard acting like a pureblood was. The whole summer he'd been free to rant and rave about how spectacular Hogwarts was. His night back home in Manchester his family had stayed up all night with him as he explained every spell, exam and everything magical in between, that he'd experienced his first year. Before that he could only risk behaving Muggle-like in letters to his mother, otherwise he kept all that excitement bottled up.

Entering the Great Hall after a whole summer without magic, he held back on gasping in wonder. The hall was lit by thousands and thousands of candles. They floated in midair over the four long tables. The tables were set with glittering golden plates and goblets. At the top of the hall was the faculty's table. Looking up, Max peered up into the velvety black ceiling dotted with stars. He'd read _Hogwarts: A History_ four times over before he came to school, so he knew that its ceiling had been bewitched to look like the sky outside. Still, the Muggle in him found it hard to believe there was a ceiling at all. He liked to think the Great Hall was simply open on to the heavens above.

Max followed Corvus and the other Salesmen to the Slytherin table. Once students had seated, they leaned over the tables to shout across at each other, asking how they're holidays went, etc. The Great Hall was filled with a cacophony of chatter. He tuned out what was being said around him, his azure eyes searching the Hall to see if all the ghosts were present. Counting the school's ghosts had been a favorite pastime.

Sure enough he found all of them, dotted here and there amongst the students. They shone misty silver.

"Flint! FLINT!" Louis hollered, but the Quidditch captain was too busy showing off his new captain badge.

"Allow me," grinned Corvus, his wand out and he gave it a flick. Flint's fork rose in the air and jabbed him in the arm. Flint shrieked in surprise. The Salesmen burst into snickers.

"What is it, Vaisey?" Flint called back, rubbing his arm. His face was very red, and Max knew if anyone else other than Corvus had forked him in the arm, he would've retaliated.

"When are you holding try-outs?"

"I dunno, when I want," he retorted testily.

"Sounds like a winning plan, Marcus," said Claude, walking down the length of the table, flanked by his group of friends. He patted Flint on the back as he past him, "Glad to see you're taking your new title seriously, Anna will be pleased to hear this."

Flint looked a tad sheepish, but he promised to have the dates up by the end of the week.

"Oh! Which one do you reckon is him?" Louis nudged Max abruptly, gesturing to the first-years being led into the Great Hall by Professor McGonagall. Max knew Louis was referring to the rumor that Harry Potter was present amongst them. "That blonde kid said he's friends with one of the Weasleys…"

"That bushy-haired girl said he had a scar on his head," said Anwar, rising slightly in his seat to see the passing first-years.

"A Scar left by the Dark Lord," added Jeremy, eagerly. "It was the only trace left behind of their duel –"

"A baby did not _duel_ with You-Know-Who," snapped Corvus. "You need a wand to duel."

"Fine, maybe duel isn't the right term," he said, "But Potter used _something_ vanish the Dark Lord."

"Maybe he head-butt him," said Louis with a smirk, "Explain that scar, it would."

"You're not funny," Jeremy told him, but Anwar talked over him.

"He's probably dumb and slow because of it."

Louis feigned admiration, "Gave up his future smarts to save the magical world. What a good chap."

"We'll have to wait and see, I suppose," replied Corvus, trying to act like he wasn't intrigued. Max had read several books describing Harry Potter's significance in the Wizarding War. When he first visited Diagon Alley he'd spent about five hours buried in Flourish and Blotts book collections. It took about an hour and a half of browsing for him to stumble upon the history of intolerance against Muggles.

They went quiet as the Sorting ceremony commenced. It was nice being in the audience this time. The Hat sang, a different song from last year which Max expected since he'd read _Hogwarts: A History._ A few of the other second-years were surprised at this. Then McGonagall began calling each of them up to the Hat.

Milicent Bulstrode became the first Slytherin. Max applauded her with the rest of his house. Claude leaned in to sneer at the Salesmen only, "Got us a prized dog, eh?"

"Malfoy, Draco!" The blonde boy Louis had met on the train swaggered forward. The hat had barely touched his head when it screamed, "_SLYTHERIN!"_ There weren't many people left after him.

"Almost there," said Corvus next to him. He saw the eagerness in his friend's eyes as McGonagall called the name, "Perks, Sally-Anne." Potter was next.

"Potter, Harry!"

Whispers suddenly broke out like hissing fires all over the hall. Corvus practically stood on his seat to get a look at the first-year. Max rose up a little too. The Boy-Who-Lived had unruly black hair, green eyes and glasses. That was all he could decipher. "Doesn't look like much," he determined. Corvus laughed.

"No he doesn't," he agreed. "I don't really know what I was expecting."

It took a while for the Sorting Hat to decided where he'd place Potter. A few in Slytherin wondered if he'd join them. Waiting, Max thought back on his own Sorting and how it'd taken the Hat a few moments to decide about his placement too;

"Ah, this will be a challenge… A very smart mind, a real hunger for knowledge… You'd be welcomed in Ravenclaw…"

It was like receiving a punch to the face. _You'd be welcomed in Ravenclaw._ He didn't want to just be placed in a House that would be nice to him. He wanted to be placed in the House that would get him where he wanted to be.

"I understand," the Hat had said. "But you better have a thick-skin for... _SLYTHERIN!"_

"_GRYFFINDOR!"_ the Hat called out for Harry Potter. Max refrained from clapping, Potter was already getting the loudest cheer yet courtesy of the Gryffindor house.

**X  
X**

**Girls Night Out**

Claire Vaisey sauntered into the Slytherin commons, completely aware that she was fashionably late. It was a little past midnight and the second night of the school year. She was seventh year now, and she was currently dating the Head Boy, Edmund Towers.

Sitting on the couch by the commons' fireplace were the first-year girls. They were huddled together, whispering nervously to each other.

"What if we get caught?"

"It's just detention –"

"Maybe _your _father doesn't care, Daph, but mine will kill me."

"Draco and the other boys have seen, we'll be there only ones who haven't."

"Pansy, they're boys, of course they can see it whenever –"

"Now why would I invite you on this little fieldtrip if there was a chance of getting caught?" asked Claire joining them before the fire. In the pale firelight she looked almost hauntingly beautiful. Her hair was up in soft, loose curls and her diamond earrings sparkled like tiny stars. The girls ogled at her for a moment, silent.

"We won't get caught?" finally one of them got her sense back. She was a small girl with ash-blonde hair and wide, cat-like eyes.

"I haven't gotten detention for four years now," she laughed lightly, her laugh sounding like silver bells. "It's always good to have an excuse already planned out when going on an excursion like this. For example, for tonight, should we get caught, I will explain that you girls were feeling overwhelmingly homesick and wanted to send letters to your mummy and daddy. I graciously offered to take you to the owlry. I've already spoken to Felicia, our prefect, she is prepared to vouch for us."

The girls were quiet again. Then one of them, a girl with brown eyes and curly blonde hair, turned to her cat-eyed friend, "Told you, Tracey."

"So, lets try to keep the stupid questions down to a minimum from now on girls," smiled Claire. She twirled around, snapping her fingers, "Away we go!"

There were four girls she was overseeing that night. The only one she knew by name was Pansy Parkinson, the brunette girl who resembled a pug. Pansy had introduced herself to Claire earlier that day, and asked if she'd take them to see the Salesmen's motto. Claire was certainly one of the people to go to for that. Claude and her enjoyed giving tours to the ignorant.

She led them out of the commons, briskly walking through the empty dungeons and through the Entrance Hall. The girls were anxiously looking over their shoulders and out of the corner of their eyes. Claire knew who was on patrol tonight and when, Eddie had been a dear and told her after dinner. And she knew how to handle Filch.

"Did they really send someone to St. Mungo's last year?" asked Pansy.

Claire didn't even glance back at her. "What did I say about stupid questions, dear?"

"How do they get away with it? Someone's got to have a clue of who they are," said the curly blonde girl.

"There are clues, yes, but no proof."

"What do they sell?" asked an unfortunate-looking girl. She was built quite wide and with a harsh face.

"Whatever you need, they sell," she told her before pausing at the corner of a corridor. She checked the next hallway, when she saw it was clear she motioned for the girls to continue after her.

"How's that possible?" asked Tracy.

"Sweetheart, mind the stupid questions," she reminded her gently. "I don't know the inner workings of Salazar's Salesmen."

"But you know some stuff," said Pansy, feeling confident all of a sudden. "Louis Vaisey, your brother, is one of them."

Claire stopped walking, turning round to loom over the girls, "My brother's an angel and you better not spread nasty rumors like that about Louis. You girls better not think too hard about who the Salesmen _might_ be. They're a source of pride for all us in Slytherin. House cups and Quidditch matches, those things don't prove a thing about our House's character. Sal's Guys on the other… they're Salazar Slytherin's bloody protégées."

The girls stared at her, resembling petrified creatures cornered by a lioness, except for the curly blonde girl. She looked excited by Claire's speech, this display of nerves brought a small smile to the part-Veela's face.

"Now keep up and keep quiet." She turned on her heels and took them upstairs. They got to the sixth floor without coming across any prefect, Filch or Mrs. Norris. Claire opened the door to the boys' bathroom.

One by one they entered. Claire pointed them to the back of the restrooms, to where a blank wall was that had large, black, spidery letters written on it;

_**We are Salazar's Salesmen  
We will cater to your every need. No matter how unseemly they may be. But all for a fee.**_

**X  
X**

**Brotherly Love**

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Pause.

Knock.

Pause

Knock. Knock.

Anwar took a step back, pulling on his hood to make sure it covered as much of his face as possible. Stupid Jamal had installed a porch light, which made things a lot more inconvenient.

There was a shuffling sound and finally the door was opened. His brother was a lot taller than him, and skinny. He wore glasses, sweater vests and his shoes were always polished. A lot of the times Anwar felt the urge to punch his brother.

They had the same hair though, black hair that looked as if electricity had run through it.

"Brother," he greeted briskly. "Isn't this exciting?"

"Let me in, Jamal."

"Of course!" he stepped aside. The cabin looked even smaller from the inside. It had two bedrooms, one bath, a kitchen and a day room. Jamal had let their mother decorate – there were Persian rugs everywhere and too much gold. "Would you like some tea? I was _just_ boiling some water –"

"What were you thinking with that porch light?" he cut him off, finally pulling back his hood. Jamal looked taken aback.

"I – well, sometimes I like to read outside, it's nice," he said in a small voice. Anwar rolled his eyes. Something inside of Jamal reminded him of his hierarchy in the family, "It's _my_ porch little brother. If you and your friends can't get around a bit of light, then well – you're not as clever as I figured."

"Oh shove it, Jamal. If we get caught you do too."

Jamal took a deep breath. Anwar always knew how to infuriate his older brother. In general, Anwar felt anyone in Ravenclaw was easy to annoy. They were so stuffy and uptight… such easy targets. Almost as easy as a Gryffindor… Hufflepuff usually had high tolerance for teasing…

"The papers are here," his older brother broke Anwar's trail of thought. Jamal walked over to his coffee table where there was a tall stack of papers set in a box. Without so much as a thank you, Anwar shut the box and pulled out a roll of Spello-tape from his robe.

"Where your scissors?"

Jamal clicked his tongue and went into the kitchen for a moment, returning with scissors. Handing them to his brother, he watched Anwar tape the box shut. "So… this wasn't a bad turn out, was it? And for our first time too…"

"Yeah, Louis and his relatives have been spreading word of it," he replied.

"Oh, you mean Claire and Claude? How are they?"

He shrugged.

"Do they know about my part in all this?" he asked with a proud smile. Anwar gave him a skeptical look.

"Why would they know?"

"Well, I assume they're curious about who's behind it."

Anwar paused to think for a moment, trying to remember if _anyone_ outside of the Salesmen asked about who was behind the homework-service. "No one's asked. No one cares, Jamal. They just want the papers."

He was a little upset. "They don't ask for credentials? I mean – who – don't they want to know _who_ they're trusting their _homework _with? I could be an imbecile and ruin their academic integrity!"

This was one of those times when he wanted to punch his brother. "But you're not an imbecile and you love homework too much to ruin anything."

"That's not the point, Anwar."

"Whatever," he grumbled. He took out a velvet pouch from his pocket. He shook it out before slowly stretching it to cover the corners of the box. Inch by inch he worked the large box into the pouch. The little pouch magical engulfed the box.

"So, how's the school year treating you so far, little brother?"

_Merlin, this couldn't go any slower_. "Fine."

"Rosmerta – _Madam_ Rosmerta I mean," his older brother said haughtily, "told me that _Harry Potter_'s started Hogwarts this year. Is that true?"

"Yup."

"Does he have a scar in the shape of a –"

"All done," he announced. The velvet pouch laid in the palm of his hand, seemingly empty and as light as a feather. He headed for the door, pulling up his hood again, before he left he called back to Jamal, "Get rid of that light."

**X  
X**

**Stop Hitting Yourself**

It was the last weekend of the school year and most of the students were enjoying the nice weather outside. Eloise Midgen was leaving through the Entrance Hall's doors with her housemates, Hannah Abbott and Susan Bones.

"My hair _does _look shinier," observed Hannah. She'd received an ounce of Pixie Dust two days ago from the Salesmen. Eloise was a little envious of her shimmering, voluminous locks. Self-consciously she touched her own mousy-brown hair. The only thing she'd accomplished with it was putting a bow in it. "I hope it wears out though before I get back home… my grandmothers doesn't want me wearing make up or doing anything like that."

"It's really pretty though," said Susan. They continued talking as they climbed down the stairs to the castle, they walked across the great lawn, but soon their conversation was drowned out by the sound of something else… It sounded as if someone was getting beaten up…

_SMACK, WACK, THUD, SMACK!_

Between every cringe-worthy hit Eloise heard raucous laughter from a crowd of people. The girls glanced at each other then hurried up, running over a slope to see what was on the other side…

Louis had his wand aimed at Anthony Goldstein, Terry Boot and Michael Corner. The first-year boys were huddle close together; they were all panting and red in the face. Standing by Louis's side were Corvus Blackstone, Anwar Rajan, Jeremy Petzold, the first-year Slytherins and half the Slytherin Quidditch team. They were all laughing.

"Poor little Ravenclaws, gone mad from all the studying, you have," leered Louis. "You just can't _stop hitting yourself!"_

There was a loud _pop_ and a purple ball of light exploded from the end of Louis's wand. Anthony's hand slapped himself across the face. Terry Boot smacked his palm onto his nose and Michael punched himself so hard he nearly keeled over. The Slytherins burst into even louder laughter and cheers.

"Leave us alone!" shouted Anthony.

"I am not doing anything, mate," Louis told them, wiping his eyes. "If anything, first-year, I'm _very _concerned for your mental health. It's not right."

There was another purple explosion of light and the three boys hit themselves again. This time Michael Corner cut his bottom lip. Hannah gasped, horrified.

Pansy Parkinson heard that gasp. She pointed at the Hufflepuff girls, "Hey, Vaisey, how about those first-years. They look sick in the head, right?"

The Slytherins turned their sneering faces towards them. Suddenly Susan was gone from Eloise's side, sprinting back to the castle for safety. Exchanging frightened looks, Eloise and Hannah decided it would be best to follow her.

She turned on her heels and ran. She took three long strides before colliding into something. There were flashes of stars in front of her eyes and the ground came rushing up to meet her. Hannah squeaked somewhere above her, but she kept running. The Slytherins burst out laughing again, possibly as her failed escape. Head spinning, Eloise pulled herself up and looked around.

She'd collided into Maxwell Love. Her heart froze. She was a deer caught in headlights. She'd collided into one of the Salesmen… into one of Louis Vaisey's best friends! _Oh sweet mother of Merlin, I'm toast!_

He'd fallen back on the ground too. Shaking his head, he blinked a few times and slowly got to his feet. His friends were still laughing their heads off, it actually sounded like some of them were crying, but he wasn't. His expression was indiscernible.

She braced herself…

"Are you okay?"

Eloise flinched instinctively, imagining a curse was going to be thrown at her or something, not 'Are you okay?' "Huh…"

His azure eyes went from her face to her bag, which she'd dropped during the collision. He bent down, picked it up and then offered her his other hand. She hesitated, still dumbfounded.

His frowned, concerned, "You _are_ okay or what?"

"Oh Merlin, I have to see that again!" shouted Louis, he was leaning on Corvus Blackstone while nursing a stitch.

"Max, _your face!"_ sputtered Corvus, doubling over. His face was as bright as a tomato. "_Your face!"_

Eloise saw a half-smirk spring up on Max's face. He sighed, turning his attention back to her.

"Are you going to hex me?" she blurted out the question.

"No," he said, looking at her funny. His hand was still out and finally she took it. With his help she got to her feet. He gave her her bag.

"Oi! They're getting away!" shouted Casius Warrington. The three Ravenclaws were trying to sneak off. Louis immediately snapped his attention back to his prisoners and aimed the jinx at them again.

"What is going on here? Stop this minute!" barked the familiar voice of Percy Weasley, prefect extraordinaire. He came stalking over with Susan and Hannah close behind, looking anxious. Fearlessly, Percy Weasley jumped into the middle of the Slytherin group and started deducting points like mad.

"Is that yours?" Max asked Eloise, pointing at a white ribbon on the ground. It _was _hers, it'd been the bow in her hair.

"Oh, yeah…"

Before she could do it herself, he swooped down and picked it up. Mesmerized, she silently watched him drop it into her open hand. "Sorry about running into you," he said calmly. He glanced over at his friends again, "See you around."

He left. Eloise stared at the spot where he'd stood. Did she just have an entire conversation with one of the Salesmen? Hannah and Susan came over.

"Are you okay?" asked Susan, gently wrapping her arm round her shoulders.

Eloise nodded, still speechless. She felt herself blush. He'd been… so... _nice. _

**X  
X**

**Before Signing the Dotted Line**

Aboard the Hogwarts Express, heading back to London after her third year, Daphne Greengrass's heart was pounding. If anyone knew what she was doing, they'd think she was crazy. But no one suspected her.

No one knew about the hamster in her pocket with the letter.

The compartment door slid open. In walked Pansy Parkinson, Tracey Davis and Millicent Bulstrode, they were in the middle of a conversation – well actually Pansy was in the middle of talking and the others were listening. "He said we should keep in touch this summer," she gushed. "What do you think that means? Do you think I should wait until he writes me, or should I write him first? What do I say – oh hello, Daphne."

They sat down, without asking if the seats were available.

"I was just explaining how Draco wants me to _keep in touch_," Pansy boasted.

"That's nice."

"When do you think he started fancying you?" asked Tracey, twirling a strand of ash-blonde hair. Pansy made a show of rolling her eyes. When she wasn't looking, Tracey sent a wicked grin over at Daphne. Tracey had a way of feeding Pansy's ego and ridiculing her at the same time.

"There's hardly ever a defining moment about stuff like that," said Pansy. "But I did get a feeling _something_ changed when I visited him at the Hospital Wing, the first time."

"I guess you owe that Hippogriff a thank you," drawled Daphne. Millicent already seemed to have fallen asleep. She tended to act preoccupied whenever they brought up boys.

"I don't owe that filthy beast anything." Unlike with Tracey, Pansy never missed a beat with Daphne. "What about you, Daphne? Who are you going to keep in touch with?"

"I don't know."

"Well since we've broken up MacDougal and Corvus Black, maybe you can try _touching_ that," grinned Tracey. The girls laughed, Daphne smiled too.

"Yes," Pansy got serious again, "You've been talking to him a lot."

"Not a lot, like twice."

"But you've been counting," she pointed out.

"Only because you'll exaggerate otherwise." There was a pause, in which Pansy glared at Daphne. No matter how grumpy Pansy got with her, Daphne wasn't going to tell her a thing about her talks with Corvus Black.

"I don't see what's so attractive about him," said Pansy. "Sure, before when he was Corvus _Blackstone_, I could get it. But _now_ – it's all very messy."

"But he's _really _rich now," Tracey reminded her. "He's estimated to be the richest underage wizard in Great Britain – inheriting both the Black and Stirling fortunes."

"Money isn't everything," such a statement was hard to believe from someone like Pansy. "Corvus and his mother are going to be in the tabloids every other day, it's really unclassy."

"Whatever's in the papers doesn't matter," said Daphne quietly. "He's exactly the same person he was when he went by Blackstone."

"Remember when he hexed Zacharias Smith?" asked Tracey, her eyes on Daphne. "He was defending _your _honor. And people say chivalry is dead!"

She smiled again, "Smith insulted him too…"

"We all know how it went down, Tracey," interjected Pansy. "Smith was insulting our House. Any Slytherin would've done the same."

"Millicent, what time is it?" Daphne asked the other, silent girl abruptly. The girl opened her eyes and looked at her wristwatch.

"Ten to one."

"I've got to go."

"Why? Where are you going?" asked Pansy, eying her as she stood up. Something wiggled in her pocket.

"Well, my sister, Astoria, she wanted to talk. I told her I'd go over to her."

"Right now?" frowned Tracey.

"My sister's weird, she's very particular about time, and schedules," she mumbled. "It's really weird."

"Wow, she sounds like a loser," sneered Pansy. Daphne would've liked to snap back with something, but she didn't have time. She left promptly.

* * *

...

...

Tah-dah! Filler chapter DONE! Hope you enjoyed them! I will be honest with you, I really rushed the "Stop Hitting Yourself" story, that's when Eloise Midgen falls for Max and I tried to make it funny and cutesy but then I got so tired... haha sorry

pls R&R!


	12. Greetings from Sal's Guys

**Greetings from Sal's Guys**

The rain became heavier and heavier as the train moved further north. Walking back to the other Salesmen, the sky had gotten so dark and the windows so steamy that the lanterns were lit. Brazda walked with Corvus some of the way, she was rereading the pamphlet about the Triwizard Tournament. "There's going to be a lot of events this year, not including the Three Tasks. We're going to have to help organize the student body _plus _the guests from the other schools. That's a lot of responsibility…"

She didn't sound hesitant but eager. Corvus figured she saw this as the perfect opportunity to shine as a model prefect.

"And Holly and Eric said they were still brainstorming more activities to enhance everyone's experience during the Tournament. We're supposed to submit any ideas we might have, do you have any?"

"I don't care, at all."

She gave a heavy sigh, "Well I've got a few going. I'll give them more thought though before presenting them to Holly and Eric, of course I'll let you have a look at them too."

"You really don't have to. Again, don't care at all."

"I _care_ that we appear to be working as a team," she said evenly. "So I'll owl them to you later this week."

"We're in all the same classes, practically, _and _in the same house," he pointed out. "You can just hand them to me."

"I'd rather spare myself from dealing with your attitude."

"Understandable," he nodded politely as she got to her compartment. She disappeared within without another word. In the cart ahead of him he heard a burst of laughter, he was intrigued to see what the fuss was about. It was a good thing Brazda wasn't with him, because if it turned out to be something fun like a 'ruckus' she'd probably insist they break it up.

"Don't tell me you don't _know?_" he heard Malfoy's voice immediately. He sounded gleeful. He was standing with his usual bulky cronies outside a compartment, "You've got a father and brother at the Ministry and you don't even _know_? My god, _my_ father told me about it ages ago… heard it from Cornelius Fudge. But then, Father's always associated with the top people at the Ministry, maybe your father's too junior to know about it, Weasley… yes, they probably don't talk about important stuff in front of him."

His stride nearly faltered. The only Weasley he knew Malfoy to antagonize was Ron Weasley, who was _always _with Potter and Granger. After having a good round of laughs, Malfoy beckoned to Crabbe and Goyle to leave. They turned to Corvus's direction.

Malfoy's face lit up at once, "You won't believe what I found draped over Weasley's stuff – I can't even describe it, ugliest thing I've ever seen but I can't _wait _to see him wear it!"

Corvus snorted; if it was too ugly for Draco Malfoy to tear apart it must've been bad. That it could be worn was even more amusing. "Can't wait."

Malfoy's sneer was momentarily lost when his eyes caught sight of Corvus's prefect badge. He expected the usually gasp of _no_, but his third-cousin actually just smirked confidentially, "I knew you'd get made prefect. Wasn't I just saying that boys?"

Either Crabbe or Goyle – Corvus didn't care to make distinctions – grunted in agreement.

"You should've bet some Galleons on it then, you'd of gone away with a lot," he told him as he walked past him to continue on. Malfoy was talking about telling the others about Corvus's new shiny badge as they went into the cart Corvus had just come from.

The compartment door where the Gryffindor trio surely was in slammed shut so hard that the glass shattered. Corvus just happened to be standing right in front of it when it happened.

"_Ron!"_

Corvus inwardly groaned. The sudden shatter of the glass had made him freeze in place so now Granger, Potter and Weasley were all facing him. Should he say something?

_No_,_ of course not,_ he told himself reproachfully.

He turned on his heel and marched on ward –

"Wait!"

It was Potter, and he scrambled out of his compartment after him. There was still a chance he could act like he hadn't heard scar-head… there's no real evidence he was even talking to him…

But then Potter grabbed the back of his bloody shirt and said, "Corvus, I need to ask you about Sirius."

"_Shut the hell up_," he round back and hissed at him. He glanced about, none of the doors looked to be open. The door Weasley had broken had even been fixed. A little more at peace, he regarded Potter again, lip curling unconsciously, "What is your question Potter?"

But Potter was distracted, he was ogling at his badge, "_You're_ prefect?"

Unable to contain himself, Corvus shoved Potter back, forcing him to snap back to attention. "I haven't got all day, what is your bloody question Potter? Not that I can answer anything, _he _is god knows where."

Potter was rubbing his shoulder, scowling at him, "But you knew where he was over the summer, didn't you?"

"He wasn't supposed to tell you anything, if it's in a letter you'd have better burnt it."

"I figured it out myself."

Corvus narrowed his eyes warily. If Potter was telling the truth, than he was cleverer than he thought… _Granger probably figured it out_, he realized. "We don't know where he is now."

"But have you heard from him?"

"What, you feel neglected?" he sneered. He could see that Potter _really_ wanted to punch him. Corvus's hand was already on his wand, a part of him wanted Potter to try something. "Potter, has it ever occurred to you, that he's on the run? You're going to have to be a little patient, I'm sure you're going to get your regular bucket load of letters from him soon, maybe another cake –"

Potter blinked, surprised he'd known about that.

"Now, I'm going to go," he told him coolly, "Refrain from ever talking to me again, Potter."

Moving onto the next cart, Corvus was left with a strange feeling of lightness knowing he'd yet again pissed off Potter. There was something in him that dreaded seeing the scar-head but that same part of him felt the need to spoil Potter's day once they were engage in conversation. It was strange, probably wasn't very healthy either not to mention immature, but he assumed it didn't matter enough to dwell on.

**X  
X**

Sliding open the door to compartment E was interesting. A cloud of green-tinged smoke curled out of the compartment. He closed his eyes against the smoke, covering his mouth and waved his hand furiously in front of his face to clear the air. A hand grabbed his arm gently and pulled him in, he heard Daphne's voice, "Come in, we've just opened the window."

An air-bubble was summoned round his head; finally he was able to see what was going on. Louis, Anwar, Max and Daphne all had lit Tentettes in their hands. Anwar had been the considerate one to summon him an air-bubble. He sat next to Louis, who was trying to aim his exhale of green-tinge smoke out the window. Max was doing the same, but he paused to toss Corvus a pack. He replied, "I thought we don't dabble in our own merchandize…"

"Someone's got to start the trend," said Daphne, letting out a long drag. They all awkwardly held their Tentettes except for her, she looked like a pro.

"How do you get one going?" Corvus struggled to get a Tentette out of its tight packaging. Daphne grabbed it from him and stuck the bottom of the pack on her hand, one Tentette poked out on top. She let Corvus pick it out, unsummoned the air bubble and put it between his lips, "You're pretty good at this…"

"After coming up with the numbers. I came up with how to promote them and I learned how to smoke them, so I could teach you. You won't catch me unprepared ever again," she told him slyly. She held up her wand, touching its tip to the tip of his tentette. A small flame sprung up from it. "Inhale," she told him. He slowly breathed in, quickly feeling the hot smoky substance filling his lungs. He hacked it right back up. "It gets easier," she smiled. Through watery eyes, he observed her. She looked like a little girl, excited and proud of herself. Corvus guessed she resembled what they must've all been like at the beginning.

"Good job, Daphne."

"Thank you," she seemed to shine even more. "How was the meeting?"

He shrugged and sat down beside Max. He briefly explained a few of the highlights of his meeting with the other prefects then proceeded to tell them about the business cards he drew up. He'd taken a large pile of with him, storing them in his shoulder bag, and he gave a few of them out to each of the Salesmen. "The first-years will be rounded up at the end of the platform where Hagrid will be, there we can slip these into their pockets," he explained.

"That's the best you could come up with?" asked Anwar, raising an eyebrow at the inscription on the back of the cards.

"It's enough to get the message across," he was surprised to hear Daphne reply first. She was looking through the cards while smoking easily from her tentette, as if it was already a habit.

"She's right," said Max. "All we've really got to accomplish with these is catching their attention."

"Exactly, but if you like Anwar, you can write the new edition of business cards," said Corvus.

"Nah, no point putting you to shame," he said before breaking into a cruel grin. "Speaking of shame… we saw MacDougal by the lunch trolley."

While Corvus glowered, Louis positively heckled at Anwar's remark.

"Not more Mo-Mo, please," muttered Max. He didn't even bother trying to hide his half-smirk.

"Oh shut up," he spat at them. "And I saw her too, she cornered me in the corridor. Milvina Fox too, by the way Louis."

His laughter died somewhat.

"She cornered you?" asked Daphne, she'd been the only one who didn't snicker at the mention of the ex's. "Morag, did?"

"Yes, and apparently, you and I broke up," sneered Corvus. Everyone looked confused, but Daphne blushed.

"I meant to warn you about that," she started.

"_What?_" asked Louis, bewildered. Corvus sharply reminded him of how Daphne had posed as his new girlfriend in the last effort to shake Morag off him.

"She was sending owls almost every week over the summer," she explained. "Asking me about you and me, and-and it was getting really annoying. So I told her you broke up with me."

"She doesn't honestly want to start something with you again?" asked Max, stunned. Corvus shrugged.

"Is she sadistic?" asked Anwar. It didn't sound cynical either.

"We were horrible together, I can't believe she'd even like me after that," frowned Corvus. Louis sat back, smirking knowingly;

"Obviously it's not the gentle touch of your personality she's missing, mate."

They laughed. "She used to brag about you in Herbology," reveal Daphne, smiling a little. "Said what you two had was made of real passion, and that drama came with passion. And well, some girls like drama."

"Claude says the same thing, but about all girls," said Louis. Corvus thought that was a rather depressing thought.

**X  
X**

He put the thought of girl-drama aside as the Hogwarts Express pulled up at the station. The Salesmen put Impervius Charms on their business cards to protect them from the harsh downpour outside. As the usual racket of everyone scrambling to get their things assembled grew, Brazda came to pick up Corvus. They were supposed to supervise people as they stepped off the train.

"Are you serious? They won't even be sorted yet!" reacted Brazda once Corvus vaguely explained the business cards. He reminded her of their deal and she clicked her tongue, "Fine."

As the train's doors opened, there was a rumble of thunder overhead. The rain was coming down so thick and fast that it was as though buckets of ice-cold water were being repeatedly emptied over their heads. "First years this way!" Brazda shouted as students poured out of the train.

"First-year?" Corvus found a small group of frightened looking, tiny people. Shivering they nodded. Corvus offered his hand, "Welcome to Hogwarts, this way please."

"What's this?" one of them who he'd shake hands with glanced at the business card Corvus had slipped him.

"Don't ask questions, kids, go to the big, hairy man there – yes the one with the pink umbrella." Corvus saw the silhouettes of his friends, all of them greeting the first-years too.

"What are you and your friends trying to do?" demanded Gilligan Curtis, suddenly behind Corvus. The Gryffindor looked furious and highly-suspicious.

"Helping the first-years feel welcomed."

"That's a bunch of dragon dung."

"You would be the expert on that…"

"They're supposed to take the carriages back to Hogwarts."

"Curtis? Vicky is looking for you, apparently something's going onboard the train," interrupted Brazda. It took a lot for Curtis to let his squabble with Corvus go, but he turned away to head back into the train.

"What's going on?"

"Oh she's just checking all compartments are empty," she said. "I just knew you'd mess things up if I left you alone with him too long. And he's right, your friends have to go, the other prefects will –"

"Okay, okay," he rolled his eyes and flagged down his friends. They nodded before slowly inching along the dark platform with the rest of the crowd to line up for the carriages.

After getting all the first-years to Hagrid, Corvus followed Brazda and the other prefects to the rain-washed road outside Hogsmeade Station, where a hundred or so horseless carriages stood waiting for them. Well, to everyone else the carriages were horseless, but Corvus could see the Thestrals. Three months before his seventh birthday, he'd been summoned to his paternal grandmother's deathbed. It had been awkward and quite chilling. Seeing the Threstrals reminded him of that.

"Hey," someone abruptly came up beside him. It was Cedric Diggory, his head bent against the winds and smiling, "One of the first-years dropped this…" He held up the starched white business card.

"Oh… that's interesting," he said, aloof.

"Don't worry," he said, pocketing the card. "I'll try and find him after dinner, to return it."

**X  
X**

The Great Hall looked its usual splendid self, decorated for the start-of term feast. The Salesmen were already sitting at the Slytherin table, chatting with their fellow housemates who'd they hadn't seen for months. As Brazda and him went to the front of the table, Corvus noticed that a lot people were eying Daphne, who sat between Max and Louis. Pansy Parkinson and Draco Malfoy were huddled together, glancing at her while whispering to each other.

Brazda confidently took the seat next to the Bloody Baron, who gave the prefects a slight nod of acknowledgment. "I think we should have hot tea or something waiting for our first-years," said Brazda promptly as she used a Hot-Air charm to dry out her short hair.

"I guess."

"Or hot chocolate is more welcoming, isn't it?"

"Before dinner? You'll ruin their appetite."

"I'll ignore the sarcasm but you're right. Where's the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher?" she asked, looking up at the teachers. There were quite a few teachers missing, Hagrid was still bringing the first-years or and McGonagall was overseeing the drying of the Entrance Hall.

"Do you know who it is? Alastor Moody," he told her, realizing he hadn't told anyone about it yet. Brazda gasped.

"Really? Wow, we're going to learn _so much_," she gushed. "This is very good news, I was afraid Dumbledore wouldn't be able to top Professor Lupin."

"He wasn't that great." Corvus hadn't liked Lupin, mainly because he and his mother were communicating back and forth about Sirius's escape from Azkaban. Corvus didn't know what to think about Lupin until the very end, and by that time he didn't have the energy to give anyone a second chance.

The doors of the Great Hall opened and a silence fell. Professor McGonagall was leading a long line of first-years up to the top of the Hall. The first-years were shivering with a combination of cold and nerves as they filed along the staff table and came to a halt in a line facing the rest of the school. There was one mousy-haired boy who was wrapped in what Corvus assumed was Hagrid's moleskin overcoat. His small face protruded from over the collar, looking almost painfully excited. When he had lined up with his terrified-looking peers, he caught someone's eye over at the Gryffindor table and gave a double thumbs-up and mouthed, "I fell into the lake!"

"I hope he doesn't get sorted into Slytherin," said Brazda, mirroring Corvus's sentiments exactly. McGonagall placed the three-legged stool on the ground before the first-years and, on top of it, the Sorting Hat. For a moment there was silence, Corvus twirled his wand idly. A tear near the brim of the hat opened wide like a mouth, and the hat broke out into a song.

"_... And power-hungry Slytherin  
Loved those of great ambition." _

At those lines Corvus grinned approvingly. The Great Hall rang with applause as the Sorting Hat finished. McGonagall unrolled the large scroll of parchment with the names. The first to be called up was Stewart Ackerley who was placed in Ravenclaw.

"Baddock, Malcolm!"

"_Slytherin!"_

The Slytherin table erupted with cheers. Brazda sprang up to her feet, clapping aggressively. She gave Corvus a little kick for him to get up too in order to greet the small first-year. "Welcome to Slytherin," smiled Corvus, shaking hands with Baddock, who had sandy blonde hair and freckles. He frowned as he felt the business card be pressed into his hand. Corvus though pushed him along the table to take his seat.

Jasmine Brittlestone, Graham Pritchard, Silvia Quinn, Lydia Steel, Kevin Stormwand, Robert Talbert, Sarah Tinnon, Greg Towers and Abby Vale were sorted into Slytherin as well. Corvus greeted each of them personally.

After the Sorting Ceremony Dumbledore announced the beginning of the feast. A few of the first years who sat near them asked him and Brazda what the cards were about. Brazda scowled while Corvus casually brushed off the questions, assuring them they'd quickly learn about Sal's Guys.

When the feast was over, Dumbledore got to his feet again. The buzz of chatter ceased almost at once, so that only the howling wind and pounding rain could be heard. "So!" said Dumbledore, smiling around at them. "Now that we are all fed and watered I must once more ask for your attention, while I give out a few notices.'

"Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me to tell you that the list of objects forbidden inside the castle has this year been extended to include Screaming Yo-yos, Fanged Frisbees and Ever-Bashing Boomerrangs. The full list comprises some four hundred and thirty-seven items, I believe, and can be viewed in Mr. Filch's office, if anybody would like to check it."

The corners of Dumbledore's mouth twitched. This extension of banned items would mean a boost in sales for the Salesmen, Corvus calculated. He was already estimating how many Screaming Yo-yos he should get Dung, their middleman in Hogsmeade, to get for them when Dumbledore continued, "It is also my painful duty to inform you that the inter-house Quidditch Cup will not take place this year."

There was a lot of moaning and gasps of horror at this news.

"This is due to an event that will be starting in October, and continuing throughout the school year, taking up much of the teachers' time and energy – but I am sure you will all enjoy it immensely. I have great pleasure in announcing that this year at Hogwarts –"

But at that moment, there was a deafening rumble of thunder. The doors of the Great Hall banged open. A man stood in the doorway, leaning upon a long staff, shrouded in a black traveling cloak. Every head in the Great Hall swiveled towards the stranger, suddenly brightly illuminated by a fork of lightening that flashed across the ceiling. He lowered his hood, shook out his long mane of grizzled, dark grey hair, then began to walk up towards the teachers' table. A dull _clank_ echoed through the Hall on his every other step. He reached the end of the top table, turned right and limped heavily towards Dumbledore. Another flash of lightning crossed the ceiling, and Corvus knew who he was.

The lightning had thrown the man's face into sharp relief, and it was a face Corvus knew from pictures. It was Mad-Eye Moody. His face looked weathered, every inch of skin seemed to be scarred. His mouth looked like a diagonal gash, and a large chunk of his nose was missing. One of his eyes was small, dark and beady. The other was large, round as a coin and a vivid, electric blue. The blue eye was moving ceaselessly, without blinking, and was rolling up, down and from side to side. Corvus had read that eye was magical and replaced the eye he lost in a duel against some Death Eaters.

One of the Death Eaters had been Ascanius Stirling, his uncle. It was Moody who eventually captured Ascanius. His uncle had been one of the last Death Eaters to be caught. When Corvus was eleven he'd first read about Moody, he was very impress by the stories about him and seeing him in the flesh didn't make him squeamish like a lot of the other students. He was excited.

Moody reached Dumbledore and reached out a hand that was as badly scarred as his face. They shook hands, Dumbledore mumbling something to Moody who shook his head. Dumbledore gestured him to the empty seat on his right-hand side.

"May I introduce our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher," said Dumbledore brightly, "Professor Moody."

It was usual for new staff members to be greeted with applause, but non of the staff or students clapped except Dumbledore, Hagrid and Corvus. But Corvus's applause died almost immediately against the stun silence around him. Moody seemed totally indifferent to his less-than-warm welcome. Dumbledore cleared his throat after a while, and began to reveal the Triwizard Tournament. He explained the process and Corvus tuned him out, having become bored quickly.

* * *

...

...

So I'm back! A lot of this chapter was taken straight from the books. I'm skipping the rest of the first night back at Hogwarts. Next chapter will include a lot of interesting things... Corvus's first class with his hero Moody... Daphne's first night run under the tutelage of Corvus... Corvus trying to resist the urge to abuse his powers as prefect... and a surprising letter from a distant relative from the past...


	13. Mad Eye Moody

**Mad-Eye Moody**

The storm had blown itself out by the following morning. Corvus was up before everyone else, sketching by the fireplace in the Slytherin common. His mind wasn't really on his sketch. He waiting for something to happen…

"_AAARGH!"_

Corvus snorted as Jeremy's angry cry rang through the boys' dormitory. "What was that?" someone asked behind him. He turned, a little disappointed to find Brazda standing outside the girls' dormitory, looking sharp and ready for the first day of classes.

"I don't know, but if you like I'll take care of it. You can go to breakfast." She was skeptical of this offer and her dark eyes wandered to the entrance of the boys' dormitory. Someone was stomping out of there and by the sound of it a few other people were scrambling behind him, snickering.

Jeremy emerged, his arms wrapped tightly round his school robes and Corvus knew why. His black robes showed just an inch of his bare ankles and at the sleeves you could see his boney wrists too.

"YOU!" he braved to use one hand to point at Corvus, but quickly clamped it back down to keep his robe from opening. Louis and Anwar came after him, half-dressed in their uniforms. Doors could be heard opening in the dormitory, no doubt people were curious to see what the shouting was about.

Brazda turned, looking aghast at her fellow prefect. He shrugged back at her.

"You! _You bastard!"_ Jeremy spat, sending Anwar and Louis into more chortling.

"I beg your pardon?" replied Corvus, keeping a straight face.

"Do _not_ speak to your prefect like that, Petzold," barked Brazda having pulled herself together. "Now what is going on here?"

"Ask him! He knows!" he tossed his head back in Corvus's direction. "I woke up this morning and – and found that my personal belongings had been – been –"

"Turned into frilly knickers," sputtered Louis, collapsing onto Anwar as they both gave up trying to suppress their laughter. Jeremy's face grew redder.

"And it's thanks to that – that _jerk_ and them," he said. Faces were appearing behind Louis and Anwar, eager boys to see the conflict unfold. Corvus stood up, affronted.

"How dare you! What proof do you have?"

"You did it and I know it! I'm telling Professor Snape!" he declared. Corvus felt his confidence sink a little at that threat. Snape detested Corvus, for being related to Sirius and for helping Sirius escape last year. The Potions Master would probably be all too delighted to serve him a detention on the first day.

As Jeremy headed for the door, Brazda reached out for his hand. This caught Jeremy off guard, he accidentally let his robe slip and fly open, revealing powder pink and frilly briefs and nothing else covering his boney, slight body. There was a burst of laughter, Corvus joined in as well. Brazda let go of Jeremy's hand as he scrambled to cover himself up again; she gave a suspicious cough, covering up her own laughter probably.

Turning to their audience, Brazda cleared her throat and shouted, "I'm going to count to ten and whoever is _not_ back in their rooms by ten they will lose our house twenty points!" Corvus gave a breathless gasp. "_ONE… TWO… THREE…"_

Immediately shoes shuffled across the stone floor and doors slammed shut. Even Louis and Anwar weren't stupid enough to tempt Brazda. Once everyone had left, she turned to Corvus.

"Give him your clothes for today," she ordered, "And if his clothes aren't turned back to normal by the afternoon I will personally report this to Professor Snape _and_ take ten points off from Anwar, Louis and Max."

"But they didn't do anything," said Corvus, but he knew it was hopeless fighting her. Fixing everything before the afternoon would be easy, as easy as it had been transfiguring all of Pretzel's clothes into frilly, pink underwear before dawn. "Come on, _Petzold_," he barely stopped himself from saying 'Pretzel' knowing that would only anger Brazda more. Happily, Jeremy followed him back to their room so he could lend him his clothes.

**X  
X**

Jeremy milked the whole ordeal of picking out something to wear from Corvus's wardrobe. He settled on a pair of dark brown slacks, a black cashmere sweater and silk socks. Corvus knew he was trying to annoy him by picking out his nicest clothes even though they weren't Jeremy's size. He wasn't going to let the annoying git get to him like that though, so he politely told Jeremy he could keep the clothes. That faltered his smug smirk a bit.

They arrived after everyone else at the Great Hall for breakfast. The ceiling was still gloomy with swirling, heavy clouds of pewter grey. The Salesmen had saved Corvus a seat, all of them were grinning at him. "Why didn't you tell us you had something for a Pretzel prank?" asked Anwar quietly.

"Figured it would be nice to surprise you lot," he said slyly out of the corner of his mouth. Brazda was sitting several seats away from him, determinedly _not_ making eye contact with him. He'd given it some thought and he didn't feel guilty about the ordeal, if anything him causing trouble only made her look better. She had meticulously seized control of the situation.

"I wish I'd seen it," said Daphne, "I was taking a shower when it happened."

"There'll be more chances," assured Louis, as he past Corvus his timetable. "Not the best of days, double Potions in the morning with History, and Transfiguration in the afternoon, but we're ending with double Defense Against the Dark Arts. That's going to be interesting, how much of a wacko do you think Moody is?"

"Nothing's going to be sugar-coated, that's for sure," said Corvus. There was a sudden rustling noise above them, and a hundred owls came soaring through the open windows, carrying the morning mail. The owls circled the tables, looking for the people to whom their letters and packages were addressed. Louis's Eurasian Eagle Owl landed on his shoulder with a letter tied to its foot. After getting the letter, Louis gave the bird a piece of bacon, "Thanks Pangloss."

Pangloss screeched, flapped his wings grandly as if preparing for take-off and only then did he take off. "Claire's been assigned to covering the Triwizard Tournament," Louis announced after reading the letter. "The _Daily Prophet_'s going to be doing the British press, she's freelancing for some French newspaper."

Corvus hadn't been expecting mail, so when a large black owl landed on top of his plate of eggs and sausages, he was very surprised. The bird had a very mean face, its clear eyes practically glaring at Corvus for attention. When he took the letter that was addressed to him, the bird pecked at the food on his plate ferociously and then left, knocking over a glass of pumpkin juice. Curious, Corvus studied the envelope. It was a deep crimson red with black, neat writing. _Corvus Black-Stirling, Hogwarts._

_Who would call me Stirling? _He flipped it over to see the envelope had been wax-sealed. It bore a crest of a falcon soaring before a watchtower. Corvus's heart froze. That was the Stirling family crest. For a moment he wildly thought of the only person he know who would use that crest… the only other Stirling he knew to be alive, Ascanius.

He tore it open with a feverous speed. The paper was expensive and felt glossy. It was a beige color with red writing.

_Dear cousin,_

_ Allow me to introduce myself, as it has been over fourteen years since we last saw each other. The last time  
we saw each other you were still but an infant, I a toddler, I vaguely remember it. It was when your mother  
eloped. I am Breises Stirling, your distant cousin from Berlin. Brutus Stirling is my father and he worked with  
your mother when she was at the Berlin Stirling Tower. The Berlin Tower was a great achievement for our  
family, but sadly short-lived. Maybe your mother has explain its history to you, but after she became Madam  
Crafter and sided against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, my father unwisely chose not to join her efforts. I am  
not very sympathetic to my father, because he should've remained loyal to our British family. Alone with the  
Berlin Tower, he quickly let the business fail. I believe it was two years after your mother's disappearance  
that we were totally bankrupt. _

_ But fear not, I suffered only a little. My mother, Stella, remarried Bastian Savchenko, a very rich Polish wizard  
and much wiser with his money. Bastian has been very good to my mother and me. However I could not take  
his name. The Savchenko family does not compare to the history of our Stirling family, cousin. As fate would  
have it, I feel a natural inclination towards becoming a crafter, and I hope to one day raise our family out of the  
mud here in Europe. I have two half-brothers, Memnon and Nestor, they are as useless as my father is in  
business and neither of them is pursuing crafting. The weight of our family's future rests on my shoulders, but I  
do not fear the responsibility. I know I am capable. _

_ That is why I look up to your mother so. I grew up knowing her history. She too had to face the world alone and  
she kept the dignity of the Stirling family intact. Your mother inspires me and I cannot wait to meet her finally  
again. There are so many questions I hope to ask her. Such as why did she not take her maiden name after her  
husband died? It is very sad that there is no one left in England to carry on the Stirling name. Perhaps you have  
given this thought too? _

_ I apologize for how unstructured this letter is. It is because I write this with much excitement. I should explain  
immediately, because I must get to the owlry before our curfew. I am a student at the Durmstrang Institute,  
and I we have just heard the news of the Triwizard Tournament that will be hosted at Hogwarts. So I will be  
seeing you very soon, finally! For the past year I have wondered how best to contact you, because I did not want  
to intrude on your life as I know the press has been very excited about your mother's reappearance, but now that  
we will be seeing each other again, I knew I had to introduce myself again. _

_ Now it is time for me to send this letter, I leave you with my best wishes cousin and I hope you are as excited as  
me for this reunion. Please send my regards to your mother. _

_Sincerely yours, _

_Breises Stirling_

_P.S. Please know that no one in my family is in contact with that horrendous squib Métis,  
we would sooner have her killed than invite her back into our home. _

"What's up?" asked Daphne, studying Corvus's bemused expression.

"It's from… my cousin," he said as he awkwardly summarized her letter, explaining that she was a Durmstrang student and was coming to Hogwarts for the Tournament. He left out everything else, because he was still digesting it.

Breises sounded pretty abrasive, very arrogant and he wasn't sure if he wanted a reunion with her. But at the same time, she sounded like she knew a lot about his mother's past. Corvus had asked his mother about the day they fled England and how Ascanius was able to ambush them. They'd been betrayed but a Squib, a distant cousin from Berlin.

_That horrendous squib Métis… _

And she claimed to remember his parents' elopement. She could actually remember his father.

**X  
X**

His preoccupation lasted while he joined the queue lining up outside Snape's classroom door. Slytherin had Potions with Ravenclaw. When he heard the creak of Snape's door opening he put Breises out of his mind. He filed into the classroom behind Max, but when everyone was taking their seats Corvus knew better than to try and sit with any of his friends. He had an especially assigned seat at the table by Snape's desk next to Jeremy. Sitting in the center front was Max beside Cho Chang. Ever since their first-year they sat next to each other.

"Settle down," said Snape coldly, shutting the door behind him. Quiet had fallen at the sound of the door closing. "Before we begin today's lesson –"

It was like a bad joke when Jocelyn Grey's notebook accidentally fell off her desk. Grey was a Ravenclaw who was petrified of Potions because of Snape. The Potions Master's gaze lingered on her, who gulped and remained frozen in her seat, not daring to retrieve her notebook.

"As I was saying," he said slowly, sweeping over to his desk and staring around at them all. "It's appropriate to remind you that next June you will be sitting an important examination, during which you will prove how much you have learned about the composition and use of magical potion. Moronic though some of this class undoubtedly are, I expect you to scrape an "Acceptable" in your OWL, or suffer me… displeasure."

Corvus saw Grey in the corner of his eyes, shivering with nerves.

"After this year, many of you will cease studying with me," he went on. "I take only the very best into my NEWT Potions class." His eyes rested on Max, his favorite student. "However, whether or not you are intending to attempt NEWT, I advise all of you to concentrate your efforts upon maintaining the high pass level I have come to expect from my OWL students. Today we will be mixing a potion that often comes up at Ordinary Wizarding Levels: the Draught of Peace, a potion to calm anxiety and soothe agitation," a lot of the Salesmen's customers ordered vials of it towards exam week. "Be warned, if you are too heavy-handed with the ingredients you will put the drinker into a heavy and sometimes irreversible sleep."

Corvus perked up at this, he hadn't been aware of them. He glanced over at Louis and Anwar, who looked as baffled as he felt about hearing this. Max was the only one who looked unperturbed, clearly he'd always known about the risk. He'd always been the one overseeing the brewing of that potion too.

"The ingredients and method –" Snape flicked his wand, " – are on the blackboard, you will find everything you need in the store cupboard– " he flicked his wand again and the door of said cupboard sprang open. "You have an hour and a half… start."

Corvus had never liked brewing a Draught of Peace, it was a difficult and fiddly potion. The ingredients had to be added to the cauldron in precisely the right order and quantities. The mixture had to be stirred exactly the right number of times, firstly in clockwise, then in anti-clockwise directions. The heat of the flames on which it was simmering had to be lowered to exactly the right level for specific number of minutes before the final ingredient was added.

"A light silver vapor should now be rising from your potion," called Snape, with ten minutes left to go. Corvus looked round the dungeon. His potion was shimmering a mist of silver vapor, and he saw that Max and Anwar's were too. Louis's cauldron was issuing a dark grey steam, passing by him Snape told him he'd forgotten to add the syrup of hellebore.

Corvus crewed up his face, smelling something foul like bad eggs. He looked to his left, it was coming from Jeremy's cauldron. His heart sank as Snape swept towards them, his lip curled.

"Black, I see that badge hasn't instilled any humility in you," he said softly, with a horrible smirk on his face. He just relished saying Crovus's surname. "You've allowed your Housemate to fail on his first day of class, while you watched over him."

"I wasn't aware he'd made any mistakes, sir, I assumed he could follow the instructions on the board," he said, trying to remain calm. Jeremy was turned to him, probably loving Snape's taunts.

"I had my doubts when the Headmaster picked you as prefect, sadly it seems I was right." Corvus heard Brazda click her tongue at the front of the class. "No compassion for your fellow Housemates, it is still a one-man show for you."

Corvus held his breath, clenching his jaw and hoping Snape was getting to the end of this.

"Do you know what Mr. Petzold did wrong, Black?" he asked.

"No," he said through his teeth.

"Ah, so you _don't _know everything," he sneered. He turned to the class, "Everyone, fill one flagon with a sample of your potion, label it clearly with you name and bring it up to my desk for testing. Homework: twelve inches of parchment on the properties of moonstone and its uses in potion making, to be handed in on Thursday. And a ten inches parchment report for you, Black," he looked back at him, "Explaining what Mr. Petzold did wrong, hopefully you possess some generosity and will share your analysis with him before he takes his OWL exam."

Jeremy happily cleared away his things. This was turning out to be a very good day for him, he'd gotten new clothes _and _he'd been the cause for Corvus's extra homework.

**X  
X**

The rest of the day went better. At lunch Brazda went to inspect Jeremy's wardrobe to check that Corvus had upheld his promise. He had, sneaking out of History of Magic to re-transfigure the rags he called clothes. It was very tempting to leave one of his undershirts as pink frilly knickers, but he doubted Brazda would have a sense of humor about it.

"Hello, Max!" Cho Chang caught up with them in the Entrance Hall as they were heading to lunch. She was with some of her girlfriends and by the looks of it, they'd just finished having a conversation with a small group of sixth year Hufflepuffs, one of them being Cedric Diggory.

"Hey, what's up?" asked Max with a ghost of a smile.

"Cedric was just telling us how his class with Professor Moody went."

"Sounds very intense," said Jocelyn Grey, slightly apprehensive.

"He'll be the first Defense teacher who really _knows_ about fighting the Dark Arts," said Cho, impressively.

"Yeah, we've got double class with him after lunch," Max told her, "I'm excited."

"Do you reckon that's the only thing you're excited about right now, Max?" smirked Louis knowingly. Corvus watched Max's face struggle at keeping straight, though a little blush became visible. Cho kept speaking to Max as if nothing had been hinted at. They walked into the Great Hall together talking about classes so far and their expectations for sitting their OWLs.

"You look very tan, Corvus," said Marietta Edgecombe before they split up to sit at their House tables. She was smiling at him, so he suspected this was a compliment. "Did you have a nice summer?"

Corvus figured a short explanation was in order. "Huh, yeah, it was alright."

When the bell rang to signal afternoon lessons, the Salesmen headed for Transfiguration where McGonagall spent the first fifteen minutes of their lesson lecturing the class on the importance of their OWLs. Personally Corvus didn't see himself sweating over the Transfiguration exam. The first class assignment was Vanishing Spells and he managed to vanish his snail on the second try, earning Slytherin twenty points.

**X  
X**

They nearly broke into a run on their way to their Defense Against the Dark Arts class. Somehow Brazda and her friends, including Milvina Fox, got to the front of the class, stealing the best seats from the Salesmen, forcing them to fill the second row. Everyone started taking out their books. Soon they heard Moody's distinctive clunking footsteps coming down the corridor, and he entered the room, looking as strange and frightening as ever. Corvus sat up straight in his seat.

"You can put those away," he growled, stumping over to his desk and sitting down, "those books. You won't need them." Moody took out a register and began to call out names, his normal eye moving steadily down the list while his magical eye swiveled around, fixing upon each student as he or she answered.

"Alright," he said when the roll call was finished. "I've had a letter from Professor Lupin about this class. You've had a thorough grounding in defensive spells against low-level curses, but you need to be brought up to scratch on the nastier curses wizards tend to throw at each other. I've got one year to teach you how to deal with Dark –"

"You're not teaching us next year?" Brazda asked abruptly. Moody's magical eye spun around to stare at her.

"Xiomara Brazda?"

"You can call me – ah – Mah –" she swallowed and gave up wisely. Moody wasn't about to call her by her nickname, he wasn't that type of professor. "Yes sir."

"Yeah, I'm staying just for the one year. Special favor to Dumbledore, one year and then back to my quiet retirement." He gave a harsh laugh, and then clapped his gnarled hands together. "So – straight into it. If you're ever lucky enough to cross paths with a wizard who wants to kill you, you'll find yourself dragged into a deadly duel pretty fast. Timing, foresight, courage and luck are the ingredients for survival most of the time. The Ministry of Magic would like you to think it all comes down to a solid education about counter-curses," he gave another harsh laugh. "You aren't even supposed to know what illegal Dark curses look like until you're sixth year. But Professor Dumbledore's got a higher opinion of your nerves, he reckons you can cope and I say, the sooner you know what you're up against, the better. And like with anything, the more you practice, the better you get. But before we move onto that, it's time you see the effects of the unforgivable curses."

A tense silence fell on the class. People glanced sideways at each other, as if they weren't sure they'd understood Moody correctly. Corvus saw Milvina Fox grab the hem on her skirt so tightly her knuckles were white. Moody took out a class jar from his desk drawer. Several large black spiders were scuttling around inside it. Without any more commentary he took out one spider to inflict an unforgivable curse upon, starting with the Imperius curse, then the Cruciatus and ending with the killing curse. The class remained deathly silent, a few of them gasped when the spider struggled against the Cruciatus curse or when Moody made the spider nearly drown itself. But when he cast _Avada Kedavra, _no one utter a sound. They were stunned.

After revisiting the unforgivable curses, they spent a part of the class discussing other curses and jinxes often used in duels. Every word that came out of Moody's mouth was riveting somehow; Corvus had never been so diligent in note taking.

When there was only about fifteen minutes left, Moody told them to clear their desks again. "Knowing all this isn't enough. There are as many jinxes as there are hours in a day, some considered by the Ministry as illegal, some considered legal, but in a duel – anything goes. Your opponent's not going to tell you what he's about to do. He's not going to be nice and polite. You need to be prepared. You need to be alert and watchful. Constant vigilance!"

The entire class jumped. His magical eye swiveled, scanning their faces while his normal eye did the same, but at a much slower pace.

"I need a volunteer," he said before both his eyes locked on Corvus, "Black – to your feet!"

He blinked, his face immediately reddening knowing that everyone's eyes were suddenly on him.

"Come on, lad, haven't got all day."

It was still _very _hard to wrap his head around what could possibly happen. "Go on," whispered Anwar, pushing him firmly. He got to his feet finally, still feeling like a witless zombie, and Moody beckoned him to stand with him at the front of the class. He gave him a smile – the first time Corvus had seen him do it. The effect wasn't very graceful. "Heard you've been in a fair number of duels here at school, eh?"

He didn't know if he should try denying it or own up to it. "I – huh… I – huh."

"What's your go-to jinx, Black?"

"I – I've used a – a –"

"Stop! First mistake, never give yourself away," he interrupted. Corvus held his breath as Moody raised his wand. "Just throw whatever you've got, boy. I'll only be on the defense, so it's entirely up to you to asset my weaknesses – "

"Seriously?" he blurted out. Moody nodded and he looked _dead_ serious. Corvus had his wand out; he exhaled, trying to calm his nerves. _This is just a class demonstration, he won't seriously _hurt_ me… Dumbledore would have to fire him… but I doubt he'd care…_

Taking the plunge, Corvus struck at him with a Stinging Hex. Moody used a Shield Charm to deflect it. People yelped as the hex bounced off the shield and broke the window. Though casting the Shield Charm hardly looked like a problem for Moody, it was so powerful that Corvus was knocked off his feet in the blink of an eye, crashing into a cupboard behind him and ending up in shambles on the floor.

"Never let your guard done!" he barked.

"Professor!" shouted Brazda shrilly.

"He's alright, not a scratch on him, right, Black?" Corvus nodded, he was too nervous to feel anything at this point. He got back to on his feet, his legs quivering. He knew he couldn't refuse. They were passed that option. "Let's try again."

Doubting a Stinging Hex would work, Corvus had to come up with another jinx. Thinking for a few seconds, he decided to go with something less sophisticated hoping Moody wouldn't suspect it; he tried a Bat Boogey Hex. Again Moody's Shield Charm knocked him to the ground, actually making him flip over on the floor this time.

This time Corvus felt something besides nerves. His head was hurting and it was _very _annoying to be tangled up in his own robes in front of his classmates. Definitely frustration was starting to build. Boldly he cast another Stinging Hex at Moody, not even getting up from the floor. Moody used a Repelling Spell to send the hex back at him.

Corvus rolled to the side, dodging the spell and the hex left a scorching mark on the wooden floor. Growling he got on his feet, this was insanely impossible! This treatment was almost as unfair as what he got from Snape!

"_Impedimenta!" _

He blocked the jinx effortlessly, "You need to change your approach, Black. A direct attack isn't work –"

"_Reducto!"_ he shouted, surprising a good amount of his classmates. He aimed the curse at the glass jar of spiders on his desk, shattering it and sending shards of glass at Moody. Distracting him enough for another rash spell, one of the _most_ inappropriate things he'll every do in class. He used a Vanishing Spell on Moody's wooden leg, vanishing it and severely cutting his balance off. The class gasped, most of them probably appalled but Corvus wasn't done yet.

"_Expelliarmus!"_

The wand flew out of his hand and Moody just caught himself on his desk. Corvus panted, his aggressive pride taking a back seat as the realization of what he'd done dawned on him. His face paled.

"Now, _that's_ more like it!" growled Moody, Conjuring back his wooden leg. He picked up his wand again. "You studied your opponent and found a weakness! You used the environment to your advantage. You got creative! Very good, Black, very good indeed! They won't get off easy against you!"

He let Corvus take his seat again and promised the rest of the class that next lesson _everyone_ would be put through their paces like Corvus. No one protested, despite a lot of frightened faces, and no one spoke until the bell rang. People sprang out of their seats and a torrent of talk burst forth after Moody had left. Corvus was still shaken from the whole experience, he didn't even have time to stand up before everyone huddled round him. "Are you hurt? –How did you _know_ how to do that?"

"Give the champ some room to breath, will ya?" Louis put himself between Corvus and the others. They decided to leave him be for now, hurrying to dinner most likely hoping to spread the story.

"Rather stingy of him, not to give you any points after _that_," scoffed Louis as they walked down the passage back to the ground floor. Corvus gave a half-hearted chuckle.

"Do you think it's a good sign or what, that he picked you?" asked Max, a little tentatively.

"I have no idea what that was about…"

An odd clunking noise sounded behind them, and they turned to see Moody limping towards them. Corvus's heart jumped, hoping he hadn't heard that.

"A word, sonny," he said to Corvus, waving him over. He gave his friends a fleeting look before allowing himself to be steered back to Moody. Once his friends had disappeared around the corner, Moody patted him on the back and they started to walk to the Great Hall. "I knew you'd perform Black, but that was impressive. Doubt anyone else could've worked through their nerves to do what you did."

He shrugged, "I – I didn't really know… what I was doing…"

"Of course you didn't!" he nearly roared. "That was pure instinct, there isn't time to think when you're facing death!"

"Yeah…"

"How do you feel?"

"Alright, a little headache…"

"Now, I plan on introducing the class to the more prolific Dark wizards of our times," he started with a gruff, "Let their eyes feast on the kinds of monsters lurking out there. We'll discuss their tactics, their backgrounds and most importantly – their weaknesses. They're powerful though, so they have plenty to compensate their flaws but they have them."

"Sounds… informational," he said carefully. _Why is he telling me this?_

As if he could read his mind, Moody said, "One of the wizards we'll take a look at is Ascanius." Corvus was taken off guard yet again by him. "How much do you know about your uncle?"

His magical eye was watching him. "Nothing, except for what I've read about him. We don't really talk about him."

"Shame," he said abruptly. "It's important to know your enemy, especially as one as formidable as Ascanius. The weren't many with his drive."

Corvus frowned at his tone, he would've expected disgust but it sounded like a compliment.

"Your mother survived because she knew how to use his weakness against him," he continued. He turned to look at him with his normal eye, his magical one looking forward as they made it to the marble staircase descending into the Entrance Hall. "This year will be good for you, Black."

He'd figured something out, "Sir, did you chose me today because you know my mother?"

He shook his head, "I picked you because you're a prefect and Miss. Brazda didn't seem like she'd have the nerve to throw curses at her professor. Prefects tend to be leaders."

_BANG!_

Corvus heard several people scream. Ahead he saw a long queue of people outside the Great Hall for dinner. Malfoy was standing behind Potter, pointing his wand at him and attacking him while his back was turned. Corvus was barely registering this when a second _BANG_ sounded, this time coming from Moody's wand. Corvus flinched as a gust of hot air shot out.

"OH NO YOU DON'T, LADDIE!" he roared as he limped down the staircase. Corvus looked to see Potter spinning round and he noticed that Malfoy wasn't there anymore. Shivering on the spot where Malfoy had been standing was a pure white ferret. Moody hurried to Potter, keeping his wand pointed at the ferret.

There was a terrified silence in the Entrance Hall. Nobody but Moody was moving a muscle. Moody turned to look at Potter – at least his normal eye was looking at him. The magical one was pointing into the back of his head.

"Did he get you?"

"No… missed." In complete disbelief, Corvus slowly approached the scene, gawking at the ferret before a small smile crawled onto his face. That was Malfoy… Moody had _just_ used Transfiguration on a student, _right in front of him!_ That was, in a word, the greatest, most wicked thing Corvus _ever _saw a teacher do.

_Can I do that as a prefect? _

"LEAVE IT!" shouted Moody.

"Leave – what?" asked Potter, bewildered.

"Not you – him!" growled Moody, jerking his thumb over his shoulder at Crabbe, who froze, about to pick up the ferret. Moody started to limp over to the ferret, Crabbe and Goyle. The ferret gave a squeak and took off, squeaking towards the dungeons.

"I don't think so!" roared Moody, pointing his wand at the ferret again – it flew ten feet into the air, fell with a smack to the floor and then bounced upwards once more. "I don't like people who attack when their opponent's back turned," growled Moody as the ferret bounced higher and higher, squealing in pain. "Stinking, cowardly, scummy thing to do…"

Corvus bit his bottom lip as he watched the ferret flew through the air, its legs and tail flailing helplessly. He realized that maybe he should step in on his Housemate's behalf. "Professor? Huh… I think he's learned his lesson…"

"Do you, Black? Has he learned to _never – do – that – again!" _said Moody, speaking each word as the ferret hit the stone floor and bounced upwards again.

"Yeah I do, really."

"Professor Moody!" said a shocked voice. McGonagall was coming down the marble staircase with her arms full of books. "What – what are you doing?"

"Teaching."

"Teach – Moody, _is that a student?"_ she shrieked, the books spilling out of her arms.

"Yep."

"No!" cried Professor McGonagall, running down the stairs and pulling out her wand. A moment later, with a loud snapping noise, Malfoy had reappeared, lyping in a heap on the floor with his sleek blonde hair all over his now brilliantly pink face. He got to his feet, wincing.

"Moody, we _never_ use Transfiguration as a punishment!" said McGonagall weakly. "Sure Professor Dumbledore told you that?"

"He might've mentioned that, yeah." Corvus smirked. "But I thought a good sharp shock –"

"We give detentions, Moody! Or speak to the offender's Head of House!"

"I'll do that then," said Moody, staring at Malfoy with great dislike.

"Huh, I can do that for you," offered Corvus, looking over at Malfoy. His pale eyes were still watering with pain and humiliation. He looked malevolently up at Moody and muttered something in which the words 'my father' were distinguishable.

"Oh yeah?" said Moody quietly, limping forward a few steps, the dull clunk of his wooden leg echoing around the hall. Corvus instinctively moved between him and Malfoy, suspecting that Moody could do worse to the fourth year than turning him into a rodent. "Well, I know your father of old, boy… you tell him Moody's keeping a close eye on his son… you tell him that from me… now, your Head of house'll be Snape, will it?"

"Yes," said Malfoy resentfully. Corvus shot him a wary look over his shoulder.

"Another old friend," he growled. "I've been looking forward to a chat with old Snape… Black go enjoy your dinner, and _you_," he seized Malfoy's upper arm and marched him off towards the dungeons.


	14. Impending Change

**Impending Change**

Crabbe and Goyle followed Corvus to the Slytherin table like a pair of lost puppies. There was excited talk on all sides about what had just happened. Taking his seat, he went straight into reporting his eyewitness of the entire event.

"He could've really hurt Draco," said Milvina Fox.

"Moody is certainly an interesting member of our faculty," agreed Brazda, doling spinach onto her plate.

"Still can't believe he made you duel him," laughed Louis. "Your face, when he called you up – priceless, mate."

"Yeah, how about that?" said Warrington, practically elbowing Milvina Fox out of the conversation. "Why'd he pick you?"

"Because being a prefect at this school means I'm a civil servant too," he drawled serving himself some beef casserole. "Dumbledore told him if he's going to use guinea pigs in class experiments, he ought to use one of the prefects."

"And he picked you?" asked Brazda, her face crestfallen.

After dinner, Corvus and the other prefects met by the statue of Boris the Bewildered on the fifth floor, where the entrance to the prefect bathroom was. For patrols they would find the shifts posted in the bathroom, and there too they would have to sign themselves in and out for each patrol. The password was '_Mud Facial.'_

Corvus very much liked the bathroom. It was definitely a perk. A splendid candle-filled chandelier softly lighted it, and everything was made of white marble, including the swimming pool sized bath sunk into the middle of the floor. Corvus saw the hundred or so golden taps standing round the pool's edges, each with a different colored jewel set into its handle. There was also a diving board. Long white linen curtains hung at the windows. A large pile of fluffy white towels sat in a corner and there was a single golden-framed painting on the wall. It featured a blonde mermaid, who graciously waved at them.

"Hey, Corvus," Cedric Diggory caught him after he'd read the patrol schedule. Hime and Brazda had eleven to one o'clock in the morning on Thursday, the very last shift. Diggory was grinning at him, "Did you really make Moody's wooden leg disappear?"

This ignited another wave of curious questions. Brazda slipped out immediately, and Corvus didn't get back to the Slytherin dungeon until thirty minutes later.

**X  
X**

He nearly forgot that him and Max were going to practice Animagi that night. There was a large number of Slytherins in the common room. Already people were smoking on Tentettes. He waved to a few people, but didn't let anyone deter him from heading to his room.

"… that old twat is going to regret he ever came out of retirement," he heard Malfoy's seething voice as he past the fourth year's room. Their door was ajar. Smirking to himself, he paused to listen.

"Talking about sending your father after him?" a bored voice asked. Peering in a little, he saw Balise Zabini sitting on his bed as Malfoy paced angrily. Crabbe and Goyle were there too.

"Not just that, Zabini," said Malfoy. "I've already told you lot about how father and his old friends are meeting more frequently… things are going to change. Father hasn't told me how, yet, but he's said things are starting to feel like they used to."

"What does that even mean?" Zabini shot back.

"I just said, haven't I, that my father won't tell me yet," he snapped back. "But you can ask Nott, his father's in the know too."

"Wasn't Petzold talking about it too?" asked Grabbe in his slow voice.

"He's only got wind of it because he was lurking outside of the Noble Serpent in Knockturn Alley all summer," he said, disgusted, "like a stray, diseased dog."

Corvus stepped away from their door. His smirk was gone. That was some bold speculation and he wondered if maybe Malfoy was being foolish. But the fourth year was just angry after what Moody had put him through, he was just lashing out. Whatever Jeremy was saying could be discarded too – he was a perpetual idiot. He went to his room, where Max was waiting.

"Did you get a classroom?"

He braced himself, "No, forgot."

Max looked annoyed, "You know what this means, don't you? Myrtle's bathroom."

He groaned. Last year, they'd gotten to know Moaning Myrtle enough. They'd used her bathroom to store their supplies since they'd kicked Jeremy out and needed to find a new safe house. The contract they all signed protected them very well, but there was always the chance that the ex-Salesmen could figure out a loophole in the contract.

At about three o'clock in the morning, Corvus and Max snuck into her bathroom. It looked exactly the same. There was a large, cracked and spotted mirror over a row of chipped stone sinks. The floor was damp with old water. The puddles reflected the dull light given off by stubs of a few candles. The wooden doors to the cubicles were flaking and scratched. One of them was dangling off its hinges. There were several large, dirty windows at the other end.

"Is she here?"

"Doesn't seem like it," replied Max, checking each stall while Corvus turned every tap on to see if she was hanging around any of the U-bends.

"Good, I'm not really in the mood to act nice," he yawned. Last year all of them had to make an effort to be friendly with Myrtle. It was quite easy winning over the unfortunate, perpetual pubescent Myrtle – they only had to compliment her hair and she'd swoon. Louis sometimes over did it, Moaning Myrtle was virtually putty in his hands and he got a real kick out of it.

They spent a three hours trying out elementary types of self-transfiguration. Corvus helped Max get caught up on the color-changing charm, "You can help me later write that essay for Snape, explaining why Jeremy Petzold is an utter failure."

"No problem."

"Do you think I should just tell Snape I hate Sirius Black as well?" he wondered. "I mean, technically, Snape and I should join forces."

"Doubt he'd trust you on that. Blood's thicker than water."

**X  
X**

By Thursday afternoon, Corvus heard about how the other prefects faired in Moody's class demonstration. "Gilligan got hit by his own Tarantallegra Jinx," explained Katie Bell after the bell had rung at the end of Muggle Studies. That class was too small to be spilt up according to House, so it was made up all of them. There were four Gryffindors, two Hufflepuffs, two Ravenclaws and one Slytherin – him.

Corvus chortled, which earned him a nasty glare from Cormac McLaggen. "At least he didn't resort to something underhanded like Vanishing his opponent's wooden leg."

"Obviously you weren't listening in class. Anything goes in a duel."

"A _real_ wizard would've been able –"

"Three points from Gryffindor."

"You can't do that!"

"He actually can," interrupted Bell, giving Corvus an icy look. "Way to go exploiting your position as prefect so early in the year…"

"No better time than the present," he muttered as the Gryffindors moved ahead of him out the classroom. Stephen Moore came to walk with Corvus.

"Mary had to duel Moody yesterday," he explained. "She'll be happy to hear how Curtis did, because she was pretty upset when she couldn't make disarm him before the bell rung."

"Kumiko _just_ managed at the bell," said Marietta hurrying to walk with the two boys. "It was quite dangerous though, she nearly made the whole ceiling cave in on us. A large chunk missed Jocelyn's head by about an inch."

"Some lesson, though, eh?" Corvus looked ahead, seeing Potter, Weasley and Granger on the third floor. "Fred and George were right, weren't they? He really knows his stuff, Moody, doesn't he? When he did Avada Kedavra, the way that spider just _died_, just snuffed it right –"

Weasley went suddenly silent, guiltily observing Potter. As he pass them, Corvus accidentally made eye-contact with Potter. He hadn't even thought about Potter when Moody showed them the unforgivable curses. He was the only one to ever survive the killing curse.

Instead of entering the Great Hall for dinner, Corvus went to his dormitory. He was going to meet with the other Salesmen to discuss that night's run. It would be relatively easy since he'd be patrolling with Brazda. He came into his room, finding all of them present but all of them looked angry except for Daphne.

"What's up?"

Daphne was smirking as Louis raised a bandaged hand, "Just had class with Hagrid and bloody Blast-Ended Skrewts_!"_

"What are those?" Corvus frowned. Though he didn't take Care of Magical Creatures, he was still quite knowledgeable in magical zoology.

"No one really knows," explained Daphne. "Hagrid doesn't even seem to know what they are, but he's got loads of them."

"He had us try harvesting the venom on their stingers," said Max, darkly.

"I say we drown those bastards tonight," hissed Anwar, the side of his face covered in black ash.

"Come up with a good enough plan to do it without getting caught, then sure," replied Corvus. He took out his pocket watch, "Tonight should go quick, right?"

Max nodded, "We've only got to drop off a few orders with Jamal and pick up the last batch."

"No Dung?" asked Louis. Dung was their middleman in Hogsmeade, who they often met outside the Hog's Head and who took to wearing a black balaclava to hide his face.

"He'll have our stuff Sunday night, he says he can't meet us any sooner than that," reported Anwar.

"Alright then," Corvus looked at Daphne again. "Nice and easy. Be on the first floor at quarter to midnight, I'll make sure no one's patrolling that floor then."

She seemed eager, "And who'll be baby-sitting me on my first run?"

"I will," said Max. He held his hand out to Corvus, "Ear trumpet."

Corvus swiftly went over to his trunk, which was secured with a magical lock. Using the key and tapping it with his wand, it unlocked and he retrieved the Salesmen's secret weapon – a thin, brass ear trumpet. It magically magnified every sound within a mile radius to about ten times the normal volume. He gave it to Max.

"What's that?" asked Daphne, very interested.

"Can we go eat?" demanded Anwar. "We don't need to be here for this." Louis seconded that. Max told them they could, once they were gone he explained what the ear trumpet was and let Daphne try it. Corvus smiled, watching her face light up with wonder.

**X  
X**

Being on patrol was excruciatingly boring. He told Brazda that he'd like her to be on the eighth floor between eleven thirty and midnight. She rolled her eyes at him but she promised she'd do it. The castle was dead quiet; Corvus didn't even run into Peeves. He roamed the dungeons up to the fifth floor. The entire time Filch and Mrs. Norris shadowed him. He could hear the caretaker's wheezing breath and a few times he saw Mrs. Norris's cat eyes at the end of the corridor before quickly darting out of sight.

This stalking made his job easier. He didn't have to come up with some clever way of keeping the caretaker away from the first floor. It would take a little over an hour for Max and Daphne to complete the run. When it was nearly one o'clock, Brazda came racing down from the fifth floor calling for Filch. "Mr. Filch! Mr. Filch, we have a situation!"

Corvus paused, an eyebrow arched curiously. Calmly, he turned in spot to see Filch pop out from behind a statue.

"It's Peeves, sir," she told him, haggard looking. She had feathers and other… bird stuff in her hair. "He's got into the Owlry – and is _terrorizing_ the owls!"

Filch cursed out loud as he hobbled off for the Owlry, Mrs. Norris trotting obediently after. Brazda sighed heavily; with her wand she cast a Scouring Charm on her hair, covering it with bubbles. "I don't want to _think_ what would happen if I let it set," she grumbled.

"We should tell the Bloody Baron about it. Anwar's uncannily unafraid of approaching him."

"It's fine," she told him. "Let's sign out, Filch doesn't need us – by the way, I gave Holly and Eric my ideas for the tournament. Figured you didn't need to be bothered about it after all."

"Oh, thanks," he smiled.

"I vouched that we'd both supervise the activities, that's okay right?"

"Of course." Brazda gave him a small smile. They went to sign out at the prefect bathroom then went to the Slytherin dungeon, both quiet. Impatient to clean her hair, Brazda went straight to her room. Corvus lingered behind in the commons. He relaxed into a seat and waited.

Ignoring the urge to doze off, he thought about Breises again – he still hadn't written his mother about her. So Breises had vague memories of the day his parents wed? He wanted to know if she could recall his father. When he was little, he liked to think he could. His face was always fuzzy, but Corvus remembered his _presence_. Or at least, he did when he was little, before Hogwarts. Now, it was too difficult. Maybe he had too much on his mind – between classes, his friends, the Salesmen… and Sirius.

He jolted out of his reverie. Someone had entered the commons. It was Daphne with no Max in sight. Walking with her head down, she nearly walked past him. "Daphne?"

"What are you doing up?"

"Figured I see how your first night went," he gestured to a seat beside him.

"It went well, it was easy and fast. Just like you knew it would be."

"You wanted something more fast-pace_?_"

"It's not that," she said, picking at something on the leg of her jeans. "It started off exciting, sneaking off to Hogsmeade, Jamal was interesting, but… Max acted a real dunghead."

Corvus blinked. "What?"

"He's – he's got some kind of problem with me," she explained, irritably. "I know we haven't had much time to bond or whatever. I got to know Louis and Anwar a lot that week before the Final Match – I _try_ talking to him though. He gets all cold towards me."

"What do you mean?"

"On our way back from Jamal's I tried small-talk sort of things, like asking him where he'd grown up and what his family's life –"

It made sense now. He grimaced slightly, knowing there'd be no way of explaining Max's strange behavior to Daphne.

" – at one point he cut me off," she was glaring now, "and just flat out told me that from now on, I need to sit with Pansy Parkinson so as to not appear _obvious_."

"Oh."

"Really, if he's so concerned about not appearing _obvious_ he should start stressing about that bloody graffiti on the bathroom wall." Corvus checked no one had sneaked into the commons to hear this. "Sorry," said Daphne sheepishly. "It's just… frustrating. You know, he even sent me back here while _he _went to check on the potions. Said he didn't need _my _help."

"Listen, Daphne," he began in a pacifying voice, "Max tends to keep to himself."

"It's not that – I mean, he doesn't even… _know_ me," she told him. "He thinks I'm friends with Pansy for Merlin's sake. Just because I'm a girl and in fourth year doesn't mean I am. I only hung out with her because of lack of other options. Max doesn't trust I'm… he doesn't trust I'm worth anything."

She hung her head, dejectedly. There was a possibility she might cry. He'd always found it excruciating to be around a person crying. Fortunately Daphne pulled herself together, she took a deep breath and smirked, "Pretty sure he likes me better than Petzold, though."

He smiled back at her, "You should start getting in the habit of saying Pretzel."

"Will it make Max like me?"

"It'll help."

**X  
X**

At breakfast, Daphne seemed to have brushed off Max's order to sit with Pansy Parkinson. She sat next to Anwar and Louis, they discussed possible ways of killing Hagrid's Blast-Ended Skrewts. Privately, Corvus deliberated on how to approach Max about his conflict with the new additiong to Sal's Guys.

As usual owls came flying into the Great Hall halfway through breakfast. Corvus wasn't expecting any mail, but he was surprised again. A barn owl landed by his plate, a small envelope tied to its foot. He recognized his mother's handwriting.

_Dear Corvus – _

_For the next few weeks I will be away, securing that Padfoot safely gets back north. Things have come to  
light, and we both think it's important that Harry has him nearby. I will write you when I get back and we  
should meet to discuss what's going on. It's not fair that I'm leaving you in the dark, but don't worry, Corvy,  
we're just taking precautions. _

_Love,  
Mum. _

"Where are you going?" asked Louis when Corvus stood up, letter stuffed into his pocket. He had about fifteen minutes left for breakfast.

"I have to go speak with someone," he said through his gritted teeth.

… _we both think it's important that Harry has him nearby._

He stalked through the Great Hall for the Gryffindor table. Perhaps this went beyond Potter, his mother had been meeting with that Emmeline Vance woman over the summer. But Potter _was _the reason Sirius was coming back to England and Sirius was dragging his mother into it.

"Potter."

His sudden appearance caused many to frown at the Gryffindor table. Potter was particularly perplexed as he turned from his breakfast. He held up his mother's letter, saying tersely, "We need to talk."

Potter looked to Granger and Weasley. Corvus thought maybe all three of the Gryffindors would get up, but only Potter did. He let Corvus lead the way into the Entrance Hall.

"_He's_ flying back here? Because of you –"

"I just sent him a letter telling him my scar wasn't hurting and that everything's fine," he cut him off, obviously full of guilt. "He doesn't have to come back, I don't want him to. It was a mistake –"

"What do you mean, you told him your scar wasn't hurting?"

"The reason he's coming back is because I told him – wait, what does _your _letter say?"

"My mum is going to be gone for the next few weeks, securing him safe passage back," he explained. "Says that some things 'have come to light' and they think it's best that you have him nearby. She didn't say why – it's your scar?"

He gazed at Potter's lighting bolt-shaped scar. Out of pride, he'd never let himself ogle at it like other students did, but now he had reason to.

"It hurts," he touched his scar unconsciously, "sometimes, usually… whenever Voldemort's near me."

First, he was furious with Potter for using You-Know-Who's name, but then he broke down what he'd said. He felt a sickening panic. "You-Know-Who is near? How? _Where?_"

"I don't know," said Potter. "But I woke up over the summer with my scar hurting… the last time my scar hurt was when Voldemort was at Hogwarts."

"_You-Know-Who was at Hogwarts? When?"_

"My first year, he'd possessed the back of Quirrell's head," he told him, in the same tone Mr. Binns explained a Goblin revolt. Corvus stared, speechless. "He's not here though, it was a dream. It's not a big deal, I'm safe here and Sirius shouldn't risk –"

"A dream about You-Know-Who? "He didn't know anything about cursed scars – assuming that was what Potter's was – but a dream that triggered a curse was very rare, and ominous. "What kind of dream?"

Potter shrugged, "I can't remember it all now, but it was about him… him and Wormtail plotting to kill… someone."

"Someone?" he repeated, arching an eyebrow. It felt like Potter had teetered for a moment. "Do you remember if they said a name?"

Potter's emerald green eyes stared into Corvus's grey ones for a brief moment, before sheepishly looking down. "No… I can't remember."

"You're lying."

"It doesn't matter," he said sharply, "It's just a dream! Can't you tell your mother to convince him not to come back?"

Corvus sighed. Before he would've been more than happy to write a letter begging his mother to stop Sirius. "Potter, don't be thick. Whatever's happening with your scar is serious stuff."

"But – if he gets caught, it will be my fault."

"Trust me, Potter, I was more than ready to blame you for all this. But it's not your fault you've got some cursed scar."

The bell rang. Potter was still disgruntled, like Corvus he probably wanted a better resolution to this matter. But they would have to wait.


	15. Breises Stirling

**Breises Stirling**

Corvus assigned Max to accompany him to meet Dung that weekend. It was the only opportunity he felt he had to speak to him about Daphne. It was just past two o'clock in the morning, the two seasoned Salesmen crept onto the first floor corridor. Motioning for Max to wait before they took the corner, he put the ear trumpet to his ear.

As usual there was a rush of sound pouring into his head. Most of the sound was air faintly whistling through empty corridors. He could hear a few toads croak, they must be students' pets or test subjects stored away for Charms and Transfiguration classes. Downstairs, in the kitchens were the House-elves shuffling about cleaning and prepping food. Upstairs, up maybe four flights, he heard Peeves blowing raspberries. His vulgar jokes were scandalizing the sisters in an 18th century family portrait. Filch was snoring in his room, Mrs. Norris's heavy purring beside him.

"Coast is clear." They quickly walked towards a suit of armor. Corvus had his wand tucked behind his ear like a quill. He grabbed it, "_Locomotor Armor."_

There was a faint groan as the steel armor rose in the air and moved to the side, revealing a pale, yellow door. The door was very small, probably intended for a goblin. Max crouched down before it.

"_Alohomora!" _

The little door swung open. To an innocent bystander the inside looked to be completely caved in with rubble, dust and debris. Max leaned in though, touched the tip of his wand to his nose. There was a spark and he suddenly sneezed right on the rubble.

The rubble began to disappear like smoke. Behind the illusion was a narrow, dark, dank tunnel. Max lit his wand and started to crawl into the tunnel. Corvus followed him, using his wand to close the door behind him. The door locked itself.

The tunnel was burrowed deep into the earth. It was cool and wet to the touch, a lot of the times Corvus had caught glimpses of insects and worms wiggling into the soil around them. He hadn't anticipated how his recent growth spurt would affect this part of a nightly run. His head was scraping against the ceiling. He adjusted himself so he was on his stomach and pulled himself along using his forearms. This didn't make the trip very comfortable.

The tunnel sloped gently downwards at first. This lasted for about eight minutes, and then it leveled for seventeen minutes. Then it climbed upwards, rather steeply and Corvus finally got to get on his feet somewhat. They came to stone steps leading up the tunnel. Max went ahead to the top where there was a small, wooden hatch. Through the cracks of the hatch, there was pale moonlight. He pushed the hatch open and pulled himself up. Through the hatch he tumbled onto a cluttered floor. They were in an old abandoned outhouse located several yards from Hogsmeade village.

"We haven't gotten an order from the Weasley twins," said Max as they left the outhouse. The outhouse was separated from Hogsmeade by a long stretch of land complete with scrubs, garbage and weeds. "Remember that list they showed us at the World Cup?"

"Yeah, and they won that bet from Bagman, didn't they?"

"Don't you think it's strange they haven't sent it to us since? They won that bet on the final match, didn't they? Figured they'd double their orders, they could even afford tripling some."

"Reckon they're ordering it through a legit vendor?"

"They know they won't get prices as good as ours."

Corvus shrugged, "Maybe they're stupid with their money – imagine that's got to be a Weasley family trait. How else do you explain it?"

"I don't think it's that," he said. Corvus didn't really care to waste any more breath on speculating about the twins. He took out his silver pocket watch to check the time. They had three minutes to get to the alley behind Hog's Head or they'd be late.

"Alright Dung?" greeted Corvus as they spotted him. He was as usual, wearing his black balaclava that covered him head to toe. The Salesmen had never seen his face.

"Aye, Corv, reckon I've got nothin' to complain about," he replied.

"You look great."

"Thanks, mate." Corvus liked to think he was smiling beneath his cover.

"Is that everything?" asked Max, pointing to a large, leather suitcase behind him. Dung's head bobbled underneath his balaclava. Without another word, Max crouched by the case and opened it. Corvus took out a Tentette while he waited for his friend to double check the merchandise. He offered Dung one, who declined, gesturing to his balaclava.

"So, yeh lads aren't into brewin' potions anymore?"

Corvus took a long drag from his Tentettes. It was important they didn't let Dung get wind of their new source for herbs. It would hurt their business relationship tremendously. "OWLs, Dung, they take up all our time."

"Well, yeh know I've got a mate who can get his 'ands on lots o' kinds of potions – ready made stuff."

"We'll think about it," replied Max, closing up the suitcase.

**X  
X**

The Shrieking Shack was the new, improved safe house for Salazar's Salesmen. Since entry into the Shrieking Shack was impossible from Hogsmeade (the Salesmen would have to wait until they could Apparate) they needed to return to Hogwarts after visiting their outhouse and from Hogwarts they could access the Shrieking Shack.

Returning to the Whomping Willow reminded Corvus of when he first discovered the secret passageway beneath the violent tree. He'd seen the great, big black dog that was Sirius in disguise burrowed underneath the tree. Corvus had spotted that dog enough times to grow suspicious of it, so he immediately researched a way to get past the Whomping Willow. Logically he sought out Professor Sprout, but she was nowhere to be found when he visited each of the greenhouses. Instead he found Daphne Greengrass, basked in sunlight, trimming a Devil's Snare.

"How did Daphne know how to get past the Whomping Willow?" wondered Max as they levitated a pebble to press against the knotted root at the base of the tree. There was a vague moan from the tree as it became rigid, not a leaf twitched or shook.

"She mentioned her family has a grove of them," he said. They moved across the distance to the tree. "Speaking of Daphne –quit being such a wanker towards her."

"What?"

"Sending her off early _and _giving her assigned seating at the dinner table?"

They crawled into the gap in the tree's roots, sliding down an earthy slope to the bottom of a very low tunnel. Both of them had to double over to walk on. After a length, Max said, "She admitted it herself – she's useless at Potions so I didn't need her. And I think she ought to sit with Pansy Parkinson again. There's too much talk about her suddenly hanging around us all the time."

"We've never been afraid of a bit of talk," Corvus couldn't help but smirk to himself.

"This is different."

The passage began to rise and moments later it twisted. They crawled through a small opening and into a very disordered, dusty room. The wallpaper was still faded and rolling off the walls. That rotten smell still lingered. _Good old Shrieking Shack_, he thought in welcoming.

"Just say it, Max – you're afraid she'll find out about you being Muggleborn," said Corvus before he jotted up the crumbling staircase. The bedroom door on the second floor landing was looked with a magical puzzle-lock. It was complicated to open, it required shifting of gears, a key and using your wand.

"We don't know her," Max called up back at him. Corvus went into the bedroom to unload their new merchandise. He finished quickly and returned downstairs where Max was checking the seasoning of their Aging Potions. The living room of the Shack was full of a thick, chalky fog.

"I'm not saying you should scream it from the rooftops," he continued as he stirred a cauldron six times clockwise, anti-clockwise and clockwise again. "But you need to stop being mean towards her – don't you think you'll just cause more suspicion that way?"

"I was nice to Jeremy."

"Pretzel was a lost cause." He went to the next cauldron, "How many turns for this one?"

"Check the client's age, subtract how many years younger they are to the desired age," he answered clinically before asking, "She told you I was _mean_?"

Corvus sighed exasperatedly. The thought of taking points away for Max's attitude like he had for McLaggen crossed his mind. But then he realized he had another title of power, one that out ranked his Prefect one. "Like I told Pretzel two years ago, I'm the bloody leader of this group, and I'm _ordering _you to be nice."

Max looked up from his cauldron, glaring at Corvus through the fog. "You're such a git, Blackstone."

**X  
X**

During the course of the next few weeks, Corvus's classes became increasingly demanding. He paid visits to the library when he could to research cursed wounds and scars. Nothing was turning up, good or bad, so he was left more frustrated. He hated not understanding something, he hated when knowledge eluded him and he hated Potter's scar all the more for it.

"Black!" Moody beckoned him again after class one day. Corvus closed up his notes about Danny 'The Yank' Anderson – a contemporary Dark Wizard last seen in North America eight years ago. Moody stood at his desk, his magical eye swiveled as each student past by to the door.

"Yes, sir?" he tried not to limp as he approached his desk. Moody paired them up at the beginning of every class to practice dueling first. He'd been paired up with Brazda that class, and though she hadn't disarmed him, she'd put him through hell nonetheless.

"Professor Lupin ever put you lot under the Imperius curse?"

Corvus nearly choked. "No."

"Shame. Dumbledore wants you taught what it feels like," he said. "I just hoped I wouldn't have to waste time back-tracking again with this class. Planned for us to be onto non-verbal spells by next month."

"Non-verbal? But isn't that –"

He waved his gnarled hand dismissively, "Sure, isn't touched upon until your sixth year. But you lot are ready – aren't you bored yet, Black? Not many left to contend with you."

He gave a wide smile, "I'm enjoying myself."

"Reckon you will next class too," he gave a gnarled-sort of grin. "Test yourself against the real stuff, lad!"

Sadly, Corvus failed to perform as well as he did on their first day. Moody had him hop around on one leg and sing the Spanish national anthem, which he never remembered knowing the words to. His classmates did the most extraordinary things under its influence. Max put his foot in his mouth. Anwar did seven somersaults in a row. Louis imitated a dog. Not one person in class was able to fight off the curse.

Moody insisted on putting the entire class through their paces until they developed a resistance. Corvus hoped Moody would call him back as the bell rung, maybe to tell him he'd at least put in a good effort, but he left the classroom with the rest of the losers.

"He's only teaching fourth years and up to fight it," said Louis, a week later, as the Salesmen left the Great Hall early during dinner. Max and Louis had gone over to chat with the Ravenclaws about their experiences.

"Sounds like our class was the worse," Max told them.

"But we get the highest marks out of our year," said Corvus, annoyed. "We put those Ravenclaws to shame."

"It's not about grades with Moody," retorted Daphne. He glared at her before he could help it. She didn't flinch away though. "At least you were willing to learn that though, half our class walked out when he announced he was going to use the Impervius Curse on us. Malfoy practically climbed over Crabbe and Goyle to get out of there."

Max chuckled.

**X  
X**

_TRIWIZARD TOURNAMENT_

_ The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving at  
6 o'clock on Friday, 30__th__ of October. Lessons will end half an hour ear-  
ly. Students will return their bags and books to their dormitories and  
assemble in front of the castle to greet our guests before the Welcoming  
Feast_

This sign marked the final week before the Tournament and it only heightened the excitement level within the castle, but Corvus was still removed from it. As Prefect he was put to extra work in preparation for the Tournament. They had to help Filch in giving the castle an extra-thorough cleaning.

The 27th of October was Corvus's birthday and luckily he didn't have to clean any grimy portraits. It received a rather large pile of gifts, the most he'd ever gotten in Hogwarts. Daphne gave him the latest edition of _A Crafter's Tale_ and a pair of socks from Gladrags Wizardwear that scream when they get smelly. Max got him a quill with Corvus's initials engraved in it. Louis gave him a racing-broom cleaning kit and Anwar got him a collection of charcoal pencils.

While he got a gift from his mother, it didn't come with a letter written by her. Penelope Clearwater sent Leandra's gift of new luggage and a new radio along with her gift of _How I Survived 15 OWLs_. But while her gift came with Penelope's, his mum did send him a separate letter, the letter came with a shard of stone in the envelope.

_Happy birthday._

_Hide this in your room, but not inside of anything. I suggest you put  
it under your bed. _

_Love,  
Mum_

Corvus studied the piece of stone. It looked perfectly ordinary and boring, but it was suspiciously heavy for something so small. Carefully he slipped it back in the envelope.

His House-elf sent him a quilt made with patches showing the emblems of the British Quidditch teams. The result was interesting.

"Your House-elf made this?" Daphne studied it. "I never knew House-elves to… _care_ for their masters like that – they're ridiculously obedient, I know, but I never thought love was a factor."

"Pretty sure it's her love for Quidditch that's the deciding factor here," he remarked as he took the quilt back, stuffing it in the box it had been sent in.

"We used to have a House-elf," she said, sighing wistfully.

"What happened to it?" asked Max, glancing up from his Arithmancy homework. He was just checking it for the fifth time for errors.

She shrugged, "One day it was gone… happened a few months after my mother left us."

There was a silence. Corvus never considered how little he knew her.

"That's not a story to tell on somebody's _birthday_, Greengrass."

Corvus instinctively shuddered at Morag MacDougal's voice. The fourth year Ravenclaw was suddenly behind him. Turning slowly he looked up at her. A bright, white smile greeted him. Her skin seemed to glow and her dark brown hair looked like silk. He tried to remember if the Salesmen had sold her any Pixie Dust or other cosmetic stuff – no, they hadn't.

While he was still ensnared by her natural beauty, she bent forward to quickly place a peg on his cheek and slip a card into his hand. "Happy birthday, Corey!" she squeaked happily before turning away and skipping off.

Anwar snatched the card from him. The card was handmade, with lots of glitter and _Happy Birthday_ cut out in green and black letters. Inside the cover was a picture of MacDougal. Anwar read her handwritten message aloud, disgusted, "Always thinking of you, every day and most of all on your birthday. Love always, _blah_ – sounds like a threat to me."

"Definitely," agreed Louis promptly. Max nodded.

"And I don't think a fake girlfriend's going to help much either," said Daphne.

**X  
X**

On the thirtieth of October, Corvus went to breakfast to find the Great Hall had been decorated over night. It must've been a treat for the Prefects, since they could enjoy the sight without remembering the backbreaking work behind it. Enormous silk banners hung from the walls, each of them representing a Hogwarts house – red with a gold lion for Gryffindor, blue with a bronze eagle for Ravenclaw, yellow with a black badger for Hufflepuff and green with a silver serpent for Slytherin. Behind the teacher's table, the largest banner of all bore the Hogwarts coat of arms: lion, eagle, badger and snake united around a large letter 'H.'

"Brings tears to my eyes," drawled Anwar when they observed the decoration. Corvus snorted. They went to their table.

"Are you excited to meet your cousin?" Daphne asked Corvus as they took their seats.

"I guess," he said distractedly, looking up in anticipation of the morning mail.

"Wonder what the tasks will be," she said. "It'll be a rush to watch, but imagine if you were _performing_, in front of a panel of judges too."

"The Heads of the participating schools are always on the panel," said Max, rather lively compared to his usual demeanor. "I reckon the other judges will be officials from our Ministry – or a celebrity."

"A celebrity?" she smirked, "What, like Potter?"

The rest of the day went by quickly, even his first class of double Potions past pleasantly enough without incident. His mind was somewhere else half the time. This appeared to apply to everyone that day though. There was a pleasant feeling of anticipation in the air.

When the bell rang letting them out of Charms early, the Salesmen hurried down to Slytherin Dungeon. They deposited their bags and books, pulled on their cloaks and rushed back to the Entrance Hall – except for Corvus who went back claiming he'd forgotten something. He had to place the small stone under his bed like his mum had instructed.

"_There_ you are," snapped Brazda as he arrived. The Heads of houses were ordering their students into lines, their Prefects were assisting as well. "You are very lucky Snape didn't notice you weren't here. As a Prefect you ought to be here before everyone –"

"That first year has his laces untied," he interrupted coolly. Brazda spun round, on high alert and immediately ordered the boy to tie his shoes. They filed down the front steps and lined up in front of the castle. The prefects stood at the back with their Head of House. When Corvus went to stand next to Snape though, the Potions Master gave him a very cold look that told him to take half a step back, which Corvus did at once.

It was a cold and clear evening. Dusk was falling and a pale, transparent looking moon was already shining over the Forbidden Forest. Corvus took out his silver pocket watch. "What time is it?" asked Mary Ford in a whisper.

"Nearly six."

She stared down the drive that led to the front gates. "They're coming from very far away, aren't they? How do you think they're coming here?"

He shrugged, scanning the darkening grounds, finally excited for this. He wondered if he'd seen pictures of Breises Stirling before without knowing it was her. His mother had given him a lot of pictures from when he was little.

"Aha!" Dumbledore called out from the back row. "Unless I am very much mistake, the delegation from Beauxbatons approaches!"

"Where?" many students said eagerly all looking in different directions.

"_There!"_ yelled a sixth year. He pointed over the Forest. Something large was hurtling across the deep blue sky towards the castle. Corvus's eyes widened, his mind automatically thinking of meteors and falling stars.

"It's a dragon!" shrieked one of the first-years.

"Don't be stupid… it's a flying house!"

"God, first years get dumber each year," said Brazda impatiently.

The second first year's guess was closer. As the gigantic black shape skimmed over the treetops of the Forbidden Forest, and the lights shining from the castle windows hit it, they saw a gigantic, powder blue, horse-drawn carriage, the size of a large house, soaring towards them, pulled through the air by a dozen winged horses.

The front row of students drew backwards as the carriage hurtled ever lower, coming in to land at a tremendous speed. Then with an almighty crash the horses' hooves hit the ground. A second later, the carriage landed too, bouncing upon its vast wheels, while the golden horses tossed their enormous heads and rolled large, fiery red eyes.

Corvus noted the coat of arms on the carriage door. It was of two crossed, golden wands that each emitted three stars. A boy in pale blue robes opened the door and jumped down from the carriage. He bent forwards, fumbled for a moment with something on the carriage floor and unfolded a set of golden steps. He sprang back respectfully. Then a shining, high-heeled black shoe emerged from the inside of the carriage followed by the largest woman to ever visit Hogwarts since Corvus's attendance. A few people gasped.

But Corvus recognized her instantly. It was the woman he'd seen with Mr and Mrs Vaisey at the World Cup. She had the same handsome, olive-skinned face with black, liquidly eyes. She was again dressed in all black with magnificent opals gleaming at her throat and on her thick fingers.

Dumbledore started to clap, the Prefects immediately followed his lead and so did the rest of the students. "My dear Madame Maxime," said Dumbledore. "Welcome to Hogwarts."

"Dumbly-dorr," said Madame Maxime. Corvus bit his bottom lip not to laugh at her pronunciation of his headmaster's name. "I 'ope I find you well?"

"On excellent form, I thank you."

"My pupils," said Madame Max, waving one of her enormous hands carelessly behind her. Corvus looked over at the dozen of girls and boys – all, by the look of them, in their late teens. They stood behind their headmistress and were shivering. Their robes seemed to be made of fine silk and none of them were wearing cloaks. A few of them had wrapped scarves and shawls around their heads. Corvus spotted a few good looking girls amongst them and smiled.

"Did you ever meet Madame Maxime?" Brazda asked Corvus quietly. "Louis did, I heard him telling people that. His parents are Beauxbatons alumni."

"She came to their party after the final match at the World Cup," he told her. "I never spoke to her, but Louis has."

"Hm," she said thoughtfully and went quiet, no doubt thinking up of ways to use this information to her advantage.

It grew quiet again as they continued to wait. For a few minutes only Madame Maxime's huge horses snorting and stamping broke the silence. But then a loud and oddly eerie noise was drifting towards them from out of the darkness. A muffled rumbling and sucking sound, as though an immense vacuum cleaner was moving along a river-bed.

"The lake!" yelled Lee Jordan, pointing down at it. "Look at the lake!"

Some disturbance was taking place deep in the centre of the lake. Great bubbles were foaming on the surface and waves were now washing over the muddy banks. And then, out of the very middle of the lake, a whirlpool appeared, as if a giant plug had been pulled out of the lake's floor.

What seemed to be a long, black pole began to rise slowly out of the heart of the whirlpool and then Corvus arched his eyebrow, having seen the rigging of a mast. Slowly a ship rose out of the water, gleaming in the moonlight. It had a strangely skeletal look about it, as though it was a resurrected wreck and the dim, misty lights shimmering at its portholes looked like ghostly eyes. Finally, with a great sloshing noise, the ship began to glide towards the bank. A few moments later, they heard the splash of an anchor being thrown down in the shallows and the thud of a plank being lowered onto the bank.

People were disembarking. Their silhouettes passed the lights in the ship's portholes. Most of them seemed to be built thick, but as they drew nearer, walking up the lawns into the light streaming from the Entrance Hall, Corvus saw that their bulk was really due to the fact that they were wearing cloaks of some kind of shaggy, matted fur. But the man who was leading them up to the castle was wearing furs of a different sort, sleek and silver, like his hair.

"Dumbledore!" he called heartily as he walked up the slope. Corvus scanned the Durmstrang students, trying to see if he could spot Breises. Maybe she looked like him… "How are you, my dear fellow, how are you?"

"Booming, thank you, Professor Karkaroff."

Karkaroff had a fruity, unctuous voice. When he stepped into the light pouring from the front doors of the castle, they saw that he was tall and thin like Dumbledore, but his white hair was short and his goatee did not entirely hide his rather weak chin. When he reached Dumbledore he shook hands with both of his own.

"Dear old Hogwarts," he said, looking up at the castle and smiling. His teeth were rather yellow. His smile didn't reach his eyes, they remained cold and shrewd. "How good it is to be here, how good… Viktor, come along, into the warmth… you don't mind, Dumbledore? Viktor has a slight head cold…"

Karkaroff beckoned forwards one of his students. As the boy passed, Corvus saw his prominent, curved nose and thick black eyebrows. Corvus's grey eyes widened and he knew that somewhere Coco was doing cartwheels – it was Viktor Krum.

"I don't believe!" Brazda grabbed his arm. "It's Viktor Krum, Corvus! Sweet Merlin… do you have a pen?"

The Durmstrang party filed back up the steps first, as they past Corvus noticed a girl staring at him. Her hair was that color that toed the line between blonde and brown. It was swept back, reaching past her shoulders. She had striking features, with a strong jaw and disarming stare.

He had a strong feeling that this was Breises Stirling. She didn't take her eyes off him until she'd moved past him into the castle.

As they recrossed the Entrance Hall with the rest of the Hogwarts students, Corvus was suddenly seized from behind. Louis had cut through the crowd and grabbed the back of his robes, he was frantic, "Your cousin goes to school with _Viktor Krum_! Have you spoken to her? Are they friends? Where is she? Where is _he?" _

Corvus laughed, "I was just going to introduce myself."

Louis let go of him, but shadowed him obsessively as they inched into the Great Hall. The students from Beauxbatons were seated at the Ravenclaw table, but the Durmstrang students were still gathered around the doorway, unsure about where they should sit.

"Hello, welcome to Hogwarts," he greeted, the entire time ignoring Louis's jittering presence over his shoulder. The Durmstrang students glanced between each other. Krum's eyes were cast downwards like he was shy. "My name is Corvus Black –"

"I had recognized you," said a confident voice. The girl from before stepped out from behind one of the boys. She was short. Her eyes looked Corvus up and down. "I am Breises Stirling."

He smiled at her. Her classmates muttered to each other, obviously they knew about their relation then. He held out his hand, "I've been looking forward to –"

She firmly grabbed his hand, shaking it like a professional, and said, "I was concerned when I failed to receive any mail from you after sending you my letter. I thought I had offended you in some way, but I didn't really believe that because I never use words carelessly like that. Maybe the British postal owls are sickly built?"

He was taken aback. There was no sarcasm behind her tone that he could detect. She sounded and looked dead serious. He realized she'd never broken a smile yet. His own smile faded, uneasy. "Oh no… I hadn't written a reply."

She frowned, pursing her lips and titling her head to the side, curiously.

"I meant to," he lied.

"Why didn't you then?"

"Huh… school work," he lied again.

Her eyes narrowed. She hadn't released his hand yet. "You enter your fifth year now, yes?"

"Yes."

Finally she let go of his hand and smiled. The smile made her very pretty. "Fifth year is like an inferno, I know – we all do? No?" She looked to her fellow Durmstrang students. They chuckled and nodded. She nudged one of the boys, "Some of us barely survived it!"

The group burst into a solid laughter and Corvus forced himself to mimic it. Louis laughed exaggeratedly too, stepping up to stand beside him. "Oh it's laugh riot for us too," he agreed with a bright smile. The girls' laughter died a little as they took in his fine looks. Breises was even stunned when she noticed him. "Works up an appetite too, it does. Hey, why don't you lot sit with us at the Slytherin table, with Corvus and me – lovely people there."

His eyes were glued on Viktor Krum. Corvus thought for a moment that the collective decision would lie with the Quidditch superstar, but instead Breises stepped forward, taking Corvus by the arm like he'd offered it to her. With her head held high, she said, "Yes, I am very hungry and we have much to discuss, cousin. You probably have questions for me? I know you quite well, but you have no idea who I am!"

Corvus's mind raced to come up with questions – he'd suddenly gone blank – and Louis graciously walked Viktor Krum and the other students over to their table.


	16. Belated Birthday

**Belated Birthday**

"… my father actually considered sending me to Durmstrang," Draco Malfoy informed the Durmstrang students once they'd settled down at their table. "Your school takes a far more sensible line than Hogwarts about the Dark Arts. We just learn defense rubbish –"

"Your castle is very pretty," Viktor Krum spoke hesitantly. He was staring up at the Great Hall's starry black ceiling with an expression of interest. Nearly all of the Durmstrang students were.

"We do our best to keep it presentable," replied Corvus slyly.

"Ve don't have a ceiling like that. Are these real gold?" he picked up the golden plate before him.

Breises rolled her eyes and pulled off her heavy fur cloak. Underneath she wore blood red robes. She turned to Malfoy, "Your father knows of our school?"

"He's good friends with your Headmaster," he informed her, perking up at the opportunity to brag. "My father's always naturally drawn affluent people –"

"Like who?"

"Like… Cornelius Fudge, our Minister of Magic and Francis Bolt, the head of St. Mungo's – "

"Oh, that's very good," she said chirpily and gave him a smile finally. "What is your name?"

"Draco Malfoy," he nearly scowled at her. He'd already introduced himself. Corvus imagined he didn't like having to repeat himself.

When all the students had entered the Hall and settled down at their house tables, the staff entered, filing up to the top table and taking their seats. Last in line were Dumbledore, Karkaroff and Madame Maxime.

"Good evening," said Dumbledore, standing at the front. "Ladies and gentlemen, ghosts and – most particularly – guests. I have the great pleasure in welcoming you all to Hogwarts. I hope and trust that your stay here will be both comfortable and enjoyable. The Tournament will be officially opened at the end of the feast. I now invite you all to eat, drink, and make yourselves at home!"

He sat down and Karkaroff leaned forward at once and engaged him in conversation. The dishes in front of them filled with food as usual. There were a greater variety of dishes in front of them than usual. Several of them were definitely foreign.

"Bouillabaisse! Great stuff, ever had it Krum?" asked Louis amiably. Corvus didn't know how it happened, but instead of ending up next to Krum, Louis was sandwiched between two Durmstrang girls.

"I have had it before and like it very much," he replied.

"Great flying, by the way, at the World Cup," he feigned nonchalance as he poured the international superstar a bowl of the shellfish stew. "I was there for the whole tournament, saw every game. My father got tickets through the Nimbus Racing Broom Company, he works for them as a designer…"

"He invented the Firebolt," said Daphne, with a knowing smirk. Louis discreetly exchanged looks with her; obviously he'd prompted her to tell Viktor Krum this. It would've seemed arrogant to say it himself.

Krum looked impressed. "The Firebolt is a work of art…"

"Cheers, mate, I'll make sure to past that along to my dad. He's a fan of yours too."

Breises leaned over to whisper to Corvus, "He is your good friend?"

"Yeah, one of them anyway..."

"And that one?" she pointed at Malfoy.

He hesitated, "Sure."

"I am pleased with the friends you keep, Corvus, or so far I worried you'd be surrounded by, how do you say, losers?" she laughed a little. "Since Hogwarts lets in _everyone_, you know, Durmstrang is selective – many old families. More than here, maybe?"

He frowned at the backhanded compliment. "Thank you."

"I wonder," she continued happily, "what did your mother say when you told her I was coming?"

"Haven't told her."

"You haven't?" She almost looked horrified. "But she will want to know."

"Reckon she could do with a surprise."

Her lips thinned. "I should have announced my arrival to her myself, I know now. She might still not look kindly on my family because of that filthy Squib."

"Métis?"

"That filth was the beginning of my family's misery," she growled, stabbing into her lamb chops. Corvus watched her, expecting her to say more but she remained seething in silence. He lowered his voice and leaned in to speak with her discreetly.

"So you were there when my parents eloped. Do you remember anything from it?"

She shrugged, "The room is familiar, I'm thinking, but nothing else. It was in a courtroom. We have pictures. I was not even three then. My father says you and I were great friends, we played with my toy wing-horses."

"Oh." Of course she couldn't remember, she'd been too young like he was.

"Have your Headmaster said how the champions are selected?" Viktor Krum was asking Louis.

"That's been top secret here too, mate," he was using the word 'mate' an awful lot, Corvus noted.

"Ve have been waiting for weeks now… it is killing me."

"We're about to find out," said Max, nodding to the front of the Hall.

Corvus looked to the staff table. There'd been two empty seats that were now filled. Ludo Bagman was now sitting on Professor Karkaroff's other side while Mr. Crouch was next to Madame Maxime. Corvus's lip curled, "Those idiots, really?"

"Those _idiots_ are elected Ministry officials," scolded Brazda.

"And were fairly responsible for the mess at the World Cup," retorted Corvus.

When the second course arrived, Corvus noticed a number of unfamiliar looking puddings. Breises became talkative again, though she steered clear of speaking about her family. Instead she asked everyone else about theirs. Many jumped at the opportunity to brag, like Milvina Fox. She claimed her father's family could be traced back to Morgan le Fey.

"We have a splinter of wood from her wand," she said haughtily. She occasionally brushed back her thick, raven hair from her fair doll-like face. A few of the Durmstrang boys were caught ogling at her like the girls did Louis. "We've gotten it appraised at Borgin and Burkes, as well as several other places. All conclusions are the same – it's the real thing. We store it in our Gringotts vault."

What Milvina wasn't boasting however, was the fact that her mother was Muggleborn.

"That makes sense," agreed Breises, her eyes eerily focused on Milvina before she abruptly turned to look at Max. "You don't speak a lot, I'm noticing that all night. Who are your parents?"

Max hesitated and Corvus felt the atmosphere became tense. "My parents own a small business, in Manchester."

"Oh? Small?"

"Yeah."

"A business for what?"

"Cauldrons." Corvus arched an eyebrow. It was surprising to hear Max lie so readily, obviously he'd been perfecting this fake life while Breises interviewed everyone else.

"Cauldrons? They sell cauldrons?"

"We make them, and sell," explained Max, calmly.

"Is it a successful business?"

He shrugged, "We have good years or what, but not right now. We tried cutting costs by decreasing our cauldron's thickness. It backfired, they melt too easily and our customers aren't pleased."

"Wow," said Louis. He couldn't help himself, "That's news to me."

"Really?" he stared at Louis steadily, "I thought I told you about this."

He laughed, "But the cauldrons I buy off your shop never give me grief, honest, mate. Your cauldrons are a work of art, they are," he raised his glass to them. Max's half-smirk crept onto his face.

Breises eyed Max for a brief moment longer before moving onto interviewing Cassius Warrington, who was more than happy to take over. Once the golden plates had been wiped clean, Dumbledore stood up to drum up more excitement for the Tournament and to introduced Crouch and Bagman."…and they will be joining myself, Professor Karkaroff and Madame Maxime on the panel which will judge the champions' efforts. The casket, then, if you please, Mr. Filch."

Corvus looked to the far corner of the Hall where Filch had been lurking unnoticed in. He approached Dumbledore carrying a great wooden chest, encrusted with jewels. It looked extremely old and extremely valuable. A murmur of excited interest rose from the watching students.

"The instructions for the tasks the champions will face this year have already been examined by Mr Crouch and Mr. Bagman," said Dumbledore as Filch placed the chest carefully on the table before him. "And they have made the necessary arrangements for each challenge. There will be three taskes, spaced throughout the school year, and they will test the champions in many different ways… The champions will be chosen by an impartial selector… the Goblet of Fire."

Dumbledore took out his wand and tapped three times upon the top of the chest. The lid creaked slowly open. Dumbledore reached inside it, and pulled out a large, roughly hewn wooden cup. It would have been entirely unremarkably, had it not been full to the brim with dancing, blue-white flames. Dumbledore warned them of the dangers involved with being selected Champion and also what security measures he'd be taking to ensure no one underage gets through. The whole student body was alight with excitement and cunning ideas by the end of it.

"So I see you tomorrow?" Breises asked Corvus as they rose from the table. People moved past towards the doors into the Entrance Hall. He could hear a lot of talk about Ageing Potions.

Karkaroff bustled through to them. There was a hint of irritation at having to weed his way through the crowd to his own students, but he managed his temper. "Back to the ship, then. Viktor, how are you feeling? Did you eat enough? Should I send for some mulled wine from the kitchens?"

"Professor, I vood like some vine."

"I wasn't offering it to _you_, Poliakoff," snapped Karkaroff, his warmly paternal air vanishing in an instant. "I notice you have dribbled food all down the front of your robes again, disgusting boy –"

Karkaroff turned and led his students towards the doors, reaching them at exactly the same moment as Potter, Granger and Weasley. Potter stopped to let him walk through first.

"Thank you," said Karkaroff carelessly, glancing at Potter and freezing. It was tiring to watch people make such a big deal out of Potter. Behind Karkaroff, his students came to a halt too. The Durmstrang students stared curiously at Potter as well, a few of them spotting his scar and understanding. Paliakoff nudged Breises and pointed openly at Potter's forehead, her eyes widened immediately.

"Yeah that's Harry Potter," growled Moody, coming up behind Karkaroff. The color drained from the Durmstrang Headmaster's face. A terrible look of mingled fury and fear came over his face.

"You!"

"Me," concurred Moody grimly, "And unless you've got anything to say to Potter, Karkaroff, you might want to move. You're blocking the doorway."

Without another word Karkaroff spun on his heels, sweeping his students away with him. Moody watched him out of sight, his magical eye fixed upon his back, a look of intense dislike upon his mutilated face.

**X  
X**

Corvus woke up at dawn the next day. Anwar, Louis and Max were already out of bed and gone. They'd left at three in the morning to procure the finished Ageing Potions and ship them off to their clients. The sun was just peaking over the horizon as Corvus pulled on a light sweater. Jeremy was snoring up a storm still in his bed.

Normally people slept in on a Saturday, but he predicted that wouldn't be the case today. He met with Daphne in the common room before setting off for the Entrance Hall. When they got there, they found quite a crowd already gathered around the Goblet of Fire. It was placed in the center of the Hall on the stool that normally bore the Sorting Hat. A thin golden line had been traced on the floor, forming a circle ten feet around it in every direction.

Sitting on the bottom step of the staircase to the first floor were the other Salesmen. Anwar looked on the verge of passing out, resting his head on his hand. Max and Louis were keeping their eyes on the Goblet of Fire.

"Anyone put their name in yet?" yawned Daphne, sitting down beside Anwar.

Louis grinned, "Fawcett and Summers overdosed on their Ageing Potions, ended up with a beard each."

"Isn't Fawcett a girl?" Daphne asked. "How'd that happen?"

"It was magic, love."

"I hope none of the others heard about Fawcett and Summers," smirked Corvus, "I want to see a few others make an arse out of themselves before they all wise up."

Warrington, Bole and Derrick emerged from the dungeons a few minutes later. Each of them were holding their slips of parchment. Those gathered around the Goblet of Fire stood back to let them pass. A few of the bystanders looked displeased to see the large built Slytherins drop their names into the blue-white flames. As each name entered the fire, it turned briefly red and emitted sparks.

"Well, I've done it," grinned Warrington, excited and maybe even anxious. "Up to that cup now I guess…"

"Good to see someone from Slytherin entering," said Corvus. He had no doubt in his mind these three would _not _be picked. "Hope one of you get picked."

"Do you know who else is entering?" asked Bole.

"Cedric Diggory," answered Max.

"Tough competition," leered Louis.

The students from Durmstrang arrived through the front doors from the grounds, led by Karkaroff with Viktor Krum by his right hand. The rest of his students walked in pairs of two behind them. Karkaroff snapped his fingers at the lingering students about the Goblet of Fire, they scattered at once.

With their path cleared, Karkaroff gestured to the Goblet. Viktor Krum submitted his name first, followed by Breises and then the others. Karkaroff wasn't paying his students any attention except for Krum. Once he'd entered his name, Karkaroff began a hush conversation with him. He hardly noticed when his students were done. They left for the grounds again, Breises waved at Corvus before leaving.

It appeared that the Gryffindor Trio had been struck by the idea to wake up early too. They came down the stairs, coming to stand near to the Salesmen. Weasley eagerly turned to them, "Who's put their names in?"

Shock rippled through the Salesmen. Anwar's head snapped back, his dark eyes wide and bleary. Louis was aghast, he wore an expression like someone had shoved dung under his nose. Daphne seemed bewildered. Max blinked. Only Corvus wasn't surprised, he just cringed.

"Your mum did," growled Anwar. "But then it spat it out."

Louis sneered, "She got confused, thought she was applying for charity."

Weasley and Potter were getting hot in the face. Corvus casually tapped his wand on his Prefect badge. "A lovely way to start off the day, idiots."

"Come on," sighed Granger as she pulled Weasley by the arm to move past them. Corvus was amazed that Granger could still show restraint with him. He was after all, horrible to her two best friends.

"That was strange," said Daphne.

"Where the hell did that come from?" wondered Anwar.

Corvus shrugged, "Who knows."

Someone laughed behind them. Turning, he saw Lee Jordan, Fred and George Weasley hurrying down the staircase. Louis quickly nudged Corvus, "They only bought the ingredients off us, wanted to save on actually having someone competent brew the potion for them."

"Done it!" one of the twins said triumphantly to the Gryffindor Trio. The other twin glanced over at the Salesmen with a smug look, as if boasting they'd accomplished something without their help. Corvus wasn't holding his breath though.

"We're going to split the thousand Galleons between the three of us if one of us wins," said Lee Jordan, grinning broadly.

"I'm not sure this is going to work, you know," said Granger warningly. "I'm sure Dumbledore will have thought of this."

They ignored her.

"Ready?" said a twin to the others, quivering with excitement. Corvus turned to Max, who was smirking at the sight unfolding.

"Reckon they've managed to brew one for themselves?"

"Not a chance," he said with relish. Fred Weasley pulled a slip of parchment out of his pocket, bearing the name of his school and his own. He walked right up to the edge of the line, and stood there, rocking on his toes like a diver preparing for a fifty-foot drop. Then, with the eyes of every person in the Entrance Hall upon him, he took a great breath and stepped over the line.

For a split second it appeared he'd done it. His brother certainly thought so. He let out a yell of triumph and leapt after him, but the next moment there was a sizzling sound and both twins were hurled out of the golden circle. They landed painfully, ten feet away on the cold stone floor, and there was a loud popping noise and both of them sprouted identical, long white beards.

The Entrance Hall rang with laughter. Daphne nearly choked on her toast. The Weasley twins even joined in, once they had got to their feet and taken a good look at each other's beards.

"I did warn you," said a deep, amused voice and everyone turned to see Professor Dumbledore coming out of the Great Hall. He surveyed the twins. "I suggest you both go up to Madam Pomfrey. She is already tending to Miss Fawcett, of Ravenclaw, and Mr Summers, of Hufflepuff, both of whom decided to age themselves up a little too. Though I must say, neither of their beards is anything like as fine as yours. I suppose it might be due to the fact their potions weren't homegrown," his twinkling eyes turned to the Salesmen.

**X  
X**

Having seen someone make a fool out of himself, the Salesmen were satisfied and went on with their day. Corvus went back to his room to retrieve his sketchbook, it would be a perfect chance to relax and revisit his favorite hobby. But when he got to his room, he was met with a very peculiar phenomenon.

He was alone in the room, so at first he thought he was imagining it. He felt a tremble. It was faint at first but it quickly grew. It was generating from underneath his bed. _The stone!_

Hurrying, he got onto his hands and knees, peering underneath his bed. The force was getting so powerful that he could feel air rush past his face. The stone was glowing red. He reached out, brushing a fingertip against its hot surface.

A scream got caught in his throat. Corvus had never felt something so frightening. His entire body seemed to tear apart, to millions of tiny pieces until he felt completely eliminated. Then he was whole again and an odor of roses hit him like a brick wall.

"Oh good, it worked." Standing over him was his mother. It took him a moment to realize he could see and function properly again. He was on his hands and knees still, he felt tingly and shaken. "Not the most comfortable way to travel, I know," she said kindly as she helped him to his feet. He leaned on her heavily. "It's really a last resort type of transportation."

Her dark copper hair was in a large lopsided bun on top of her head and she wore her glasses. Struggling under his weight, her glasses had begun to slip down the bridge of her nose.

"Don't worry, I got him," someone else said, sliding up on Corvus's other side. He was lifted off his mother. Corvus stared wildly at him. "Hey Corv, happy belated birthday."

"What's _he _doing here?"

Sirius gave that bark of a laugh. "I missed you too. Relax, it's just for today and who'd think to come looking for me _here?"_

They were in their house on Benwall Road in Holloway, London. It was Corvus's least favorite property. The inside was decorated entirely in red hues and gold, not to mention the stifling, persistent stench of roses. They were in the front hallway. It was painted rose pink with gold leaf molding. A long thin red carpet covered the hallway's polished rosewood floors and it led to a circular room with a large marble sculpted table with red roses set in a large, gaudy gold vase. This townhouse would be the least conspicuous place to hide a wanted felon…

"Mum, what is he doing here?" he repeated, ignoring his uncle. "I thought he was supposed to get the hell away from us, so he doesn't drag us down with him when he gets caught."

"Corvus! Stop talking like that, he's not going to get caught," she scowled at him. "Sirius is only here for a few days – actually he's here for you."

"_What?_"

"It's time you're told what's been going on," Sirius told him. Corvus forgot his uncle was holding him up. Immediately he pushed him off.

"About Potter's scar? Yeah, he actually told me that stuff himself," he snapped at them.

"You spoke with Harry?"

"Only as a last resort."

"Corvus," his mother said his name sternly again to calm him down. "I wouldn't risk smuggling Sirius back into the country over some dream."

"It's not just a dream, Harry's scar – " Sirius tried to cut her off, but she held up her hand.

"There's been other things going on, more _tangible _things," she gave Sirius a look. "I don't understand Harry's dream, it's disturbing but that's not what's keeping me up at night."

"So what the hell's going on then?" he demanded. She sighed and brushed his hair out of his eyes.

"Come, I want to celebrate your birthday first," she explained, smiling. "That was the original plan, you know – the happy stuff before the not-so-happy stuff."

**X  
X**

Corvus didn't speak much as they ate cake in the dining room. Coco was standing guard in their room at the Leaky Cauldron, and Corvus oddly missed her. She'd at least be oblivious of what dire future may be hanging in the balance. Since his mother's plan of action had been ruined, they decided to talk business over cake.

"Before the World Cup I received a report that Métis Stirling –"

"The Squib." His mother was taken aback.

"Yes, the Squib who betrayed us – did I mention her name to you before?"

"No, but her sister did. Breises Stirling, she's at Hogwarts right now, came with the group from Durmstrang."

"A coincidence," noted Sirius, glancing at his mother. She shook her head.

"Brutus Stirling's children haven't had any contact with her, _ever,_" she explained. "She's a Squib, as far as they are concerned, I'm sure, she's no kin of theirs. I've had Métis tracked for years now, ever since I discovered it was her who betrayed us. And for the first time in over thirteen years Métis went missing."

"It was before the World Cup," said Sirius, leaning over on the table intently. Corvus noticed the change in his uncle's personality. Over the summer it seemed rare for Sirius to be completely present. You could tell by his eyes that his mind was still somewhere else, very alone. But now Sirius was alight with intensity. "Your mum was smart enough to suspect that maybe someone from the wizarding world had reached out to her, someone who was on the run too – someone like Peter Pettigrew."

"There's no evidence they've linked up," his mother told him. "But we found a receipt in Metis's possession. It was from a store in Albania. After Voldemort –"

Corvus flinched, dropping his fork on the table.

"Ah, come on Corv. It's just a name."

"After You-Know-Who disappeared," his mother kept the conversation from digressing, "There were rumors that he was still alive and he'd fled to Albania for refuge."

"But she's a Squib," he said, trying to ignore Sirius again.

"A perfect decoy," retorted Sirius.

"You-Know-Who's dead," he said sharply. Sirius shook his head no. Corvus looked to his mother.

"There's evidence against that," she told him.

"How? How'd he not die?"

Her eyes glanced downwards for a split second. "Don't know, dear."

Sirius placed his hand on hers on top of the table. "There's more, it's about Ascanius."

"The officials at Nurmengard have told me that Ascanius is dying."

There was a pause.

"Isn't that… good news?"

"Too many coincidences, Corv," said Sirius. His mother nodded.

"Why are you telling me?" he asked. "All of this… it doesn't even link up. It could just be coincidences."

"It's important you know," Sirius said. "And… it's important that you and Harry watch out for each other. The fact that Dumbledore's brought Moody to Hogwarts says something – he's reading the signs."

"And Moody knows everything we've just told you," his mother told him. Corvus stared down at his plate of half-eaten cake. It was a chocolate cake. It tasted a bit dry but he knew his mother had baked it. She wasn't the best cook. "We've got good people helping us on figuring out what all this means. And it might not mean anything, Corvy, but it's best that we all keep our eyes and ears open."

Sirius and his mother were watching him. She was disquieted. She wanted to gather him up in her arms on the spot and tell him everything was going to be all right. But she'd turned a new leaf and she wasn't going to lie to him anymore.

She let go of Sirius's hand and with both hands grabbed Corvus's. Sirius shifted in his seat, withdrawing his hand from the tabletop now that it had been abandoned. He was no longer giving speeches, he was now witnessing a moment between a mother and child. He could only watch and he knew he wasn't welcomed to interrupt.

Corvus felt sick. What little cake he did eat threatened to crawl back up his throat and splatter on the rosewood table. What the hell was happening? What did this all mean? What was _going_ to happen? And what could he do about it?

_Nothing_, he concluded.

"I need to use the loo," he announced finally.

"Okay," his mother released his hands. He didn't look at either of them as he hurried out of the dining room. The smell of roses wasn't helping him.

He went straight into the bathroom and knelt by the toilet before vomiting whatever had been curling about in his stomach.


	17. Potter Stinks

**Potter Stinks**

The first place Corvus could remember living at was Vancouver, Canada. They lived in a small two bedrooms apartment. Leandra turned one of the bedrooms into an office and they shared a queens-sized bed in the other. The walls were so thin you could hear the neighbor hiccup. No matter what time of day it felt dark, their windows faced a brick wall. There were twenty-three floors, fifteen apartments on each floor and they lived on the eighteenth floor.

They lived there until Corvus was six. He couldn't remember his days there but he could remember the day they left that apartment. His mother packed all their belongings up, there wasn't much stuff to their name then.

"Mummy?"

"Hmm?"

"Why did daddy die?"

He was sitting on their old couch, watching her tape up all the brown cardboard boxes with their names on it. She paused though at the question. Her hair was dyed black then and cut short.

"Daddy died because he fought against a very bad man," she told him. This excited little Corvus.

"Did he beat the bad man?"

He was too young to understand the change in her expression. "Yes, Corvy, the bad man is gone."

"But why did daddy die?"

She put down the tap to sit beside him. He curled up in her arms, she hugged him tightly and answered him: "He died so the bad man would die too. Daddy wanted you and me to be safe."

"But… I don't understand. Why can't just the bad man die?"

"Because the bad man was _very_ bad and _very _hard to fight," she explained, still holding him. "Sometimes a hero has to give everything up to defeat his enemy."

"They has to die?"

She was quiet. He couldn't see her face. He knew something was wrong with his mummy. It made him sad.

**X  
X**

"He's taking it pretty hard."

"How the hell did you think he'd take it?"

"He was there when Wormtail got away, and Harry told him about his dream…"

"We've just told him the most terrifying dark wizard of our time might be coming back for an encore," snapped Leandra. She got to her feet, too restless to sit down any more. She started to pace. "He's not like Harry, you know. He doesn't have some weird connection with Voldemort, giving him a heads up on things like this."

"Technically, that should give him more confidence," he reasoned. "I mean he didn't lose as much during the war. James and Lily were taken from Harry, he's had to spend his life –"

"Voldemort did enough damage to my family, thank you."

"Lee, you know what I meant –"

She was happy he intuitively knew to drop it. She had her face covered and she was trying to think of what she could do to fix this.

_Nothing…_

She'd perfected the art of protecting Corvus ever since he was born, but she spent a lot of nights awake and worried that her luck might be running out. Besides, the first time around, she wasn't the only one involved in keeping him safe.

"You're not alone," he told her, reading her mind. He got up and gently removed her hands from her face. "You've still got that secret weapon, always will."

She tried to smile back at him. Since he'd gotten back to England there'd been a change in him. It was like his old self was shining through finally. He was back in his prime, gearing up to fight evil and dodge death. Leandra was his too this time around; she knew this added an extra spring in his stride.

She couldn't tell him that at that moment, she really missed Regulus.

**X  
X**

His legs still felt wobbly, but he was determined to get the hell out of there. Corvus inched his way out of the bathroom and found them waiting for him in the dining room. Sirius was holding his mother, but his mother looked miles away. She snapped to when she noticed him approaching.

"Corvy…"

"I need to get back to Hogwarts," he croaked.

"I'm going to come up soon, to visit you," she told him. Sirius let go of her and she came over to hug him.

"Mum, was father a Death Eater?"

His mother went rigid at the sudden question. That last day in Vancouver had popped into his head strangely while he vomited up his birthday cake. He never questioned that memory, even though there'd been many articles about his mother's dealings with Death Eaters years ago. Those kinds of articles were everywhere when she came back from the dead last summer.

But even knowing the hearsay, whenever someone brought up his father he never thought 'Death Eater.' According to his mother he was a great father, who loved Corvus and Leandra very much – that's how Corvus liked to remember him.

Leandra cleared her throat and stepped back from him. Sirius looked bewildered too. "Well, technically… yes," she said, keeping her voice steady.

"Technically?"

"He was young – _we_ were young. He was actually only a year older than you now…"

_Sixteen? _

"We didn't understand what it meant to be a Death Eater. We didn't get it… until it was too late."

"What does that mean?" he demanded sharply. He didn't imagine he'd get aggressive, but he was so shaken from everything else that day, he wasn't really in control anymore.

"Corvus," Sirius interrupted gently. "Regulus didn't have a chance, our family was crazy about all that pureblood superiority rubbish –"

"_You _didn't become a Death Eater." The second he said it, Corvus felt a twinge of guilt. Whole summer long he resented the way Sirius spoke about his father. Now Sirius was speaking on his behalf and it was Corvus who was criticizing.

"Sirius was different," his mother told him. "He always wanted out and he had a place to run away to. Regulus didn't see anything wrong with his family's doctrines, as a pureblood they didn't bother him."

He wanted to throw up again. Atrocities against Muggles hadn't _bothered_ his father. And at sixteen, just a year old than he was. He stared at his mother.

"I was the same way," she told him, "I'm not proud of it. He wasn't proud of it. But you won't ever know what it was like growing up then, Corvus. We were rich, pureblood – we had it made. Of course we had ambition for ourselves too. I wanted to be the best Crafter in the world, your father wanted to –"

"Be a Death Eater," he finished.

"No," she frowned at him, hoping he'd give her a chance – give his father a chance. "He wanted to be a part of something. Believe it or not, but he saw You-Know-Who's rise to power as an opportunity for our world to prosper. He didn't hate Muggles, didn't think about them, avoided them because he didn't want to upset his family – but he'd never join the Death Eaters if he knew they'd initiate an eradication of Muggles or anyone. Really, no one thought that would _ever _happen when You-Know-Whocame about…"

"You hoped it wouldn't," said Sirius under his breath. Leandra glared at him suddenly.

"We didn't know."

"A lot of people didn't want to believe it would ever get bad with You-Know-Who calling the shoots," he continued. "It was a mistake, a lot of people made the same one."

His mother's stare remained dark, but Sirius was ignoring it. His uncle wasn't going to let her sugarcoat this topic, and Corvus should be grateful for that.

"He was an amazing person, Corvy," she whispered, her eyes imploring him to listen. "If you only knew how much he loved you… Reg hated what our lives became. We had to hide everything we loved from the world. We weren't safe, every day we looked over our shoulders expecting someone to be there, ready to stab us in the back. I'd rather have kept playing the game, because there was no way we'd get out alive. He knew that… he did everything so we could escape."

So she'd told him the truth in Vancouver. The bad man had killed his father. It didn't change anything then.

**X  
X**

He felt numb by the time he got back to Hogwarts. That stone transported him back underneath his bed. It was sort of surreal to be back at school. The stench of roses, the overpowering presence of red and gold, gone. Everything they'd talked about was still bouncing around in his head though.

He lay down on top of his covers. There was a cold sweat clinging to him, he vaguely thought about taking a shower but he doubted he had the energy. You-Know-Who was coming back because of a Squib and a fat, balding wizard. Harry Potter's scar was a kind of radar for You-Know-Who. His father had been a Death Eater but only half-heartedly and was killed for it.

The door opened, breaking his trail of thought. Jeremy entered the room, stopping in his step when he saw Corvus lying on his bed. His beady eyes narrowed at him.

"What?" he demanded.

"Thought you'd be following after Viktor Krum with the rest of your friends," he spat. "Missed your chance to sit with him for dinner."

Without breaking his glare, Corvus shifted his weight to get his watch from his pocket. It was almost time for dinner. The Champions were going to be announced. Jeremy seemed to be changing into clean clothes for the occasion. If Corvus was in the mood, he might've made fun of him for it.

"Angelina Johnson submitted her name to the Goblet at lunch," he hissed, more to himself than at Corvus. "We can't have a Gryffindor champion."

"Give it a rest, Petzold," he muttered as he got up and left the room. He didn't look forward to the Halloween feast, but he knew if he didn't, he'd be left trapped in his own head. The feast seemed to take much longer than usual, and everyone had questions about where Corvus was that afternoon.

"Missed it, mate, we played a friendly match of Quidditch," grinned Louis.

"It vas very fun," said Poliakoff.

"Krum didn't play," whispered Malfoy, "He sat on the sideline with your cousin. He was impressed with us, though, you could tell."

"You are looking ill, cousin," declared Breises. She'd insisted that everyone move seats so Corvus could sit next to her.

"Yeah, I was sick. Stuck at the nurse's all day."

"Oh," she said. "You missed a good day. Your friends kept me good company."

"It was a ball," said Anwar, very dryly.

"Breises is nearing her final exam to become an Animagus," said Max, with his half-smirk.

"Yes, Animagi is an option for our final year at Durmstrang, not many can achieve it though," she told him haughtily. "From what I hear about you, cousin, you might go in the same direction? You are good at Transfiguration?"

"Best in our year," agreed Max.

"It's something I think about, yeah," replied Corvus, smiling very faintly.

At long last, the golden plates returned to their original spotless state. There was a sharp upswing in the level of noise within the Hall, which died away almost instantly as Dumbledore got to his feet. On either side of him, Professor Karkaroff and Madame Maxime looked as tense and expectant as everyone else. Lugo Bagman was beaming and winking at various students. Mr. Crouch however looked quite uninterested almost bored.

"Well, the Goblet is almost ready to make its decision," said Dumbledore. "I estimate that it requires one more minute. Now, when the Champions' names are called, I would ask them please to come up to the top of the Hall, walk along the staff table, and go through into the next chamber," he indicated the door flanked by Eric Greene and Holly Spencer behind the staff table. "Where they will be receiving their first instructions."

Dumbledore took out his wand and gave a great sweeping wave with it. At once, all the candles except those inside the carved pumpkins were extinguished, plunging them all into a state of semi-darkness. Despite the showmanship, Corvus was completely impervious to the excitement buzzing through the Hall. He never felt so removed from his Hogwarts. This was his domain usually, his playground, but right now he felt like a stranger to it all. Even Max was showing anticipation.

The Goblet of Fire now shone more brightly than anything in the whole Hall, the sparkling bright blue-whiteness of the flames almost painful on the eyes. Everyone watched, waiting… Corvus yawned.

The flames inside the Goblet turned suddenly red again. Sparks began to fly from it. Next moment, a tongue of flame shot into the air, a charred piece of parchment fluttered out of it – the whole room gasped, except for Corvus. He was suddenly struck by the thought of what if You-Know-Who returns, how would Hogwarts change? Looking around at his friends, he imagined having to one-day break the news to them.

Max might actually leave the country.

Dumbledore caught the piece of parchment and held it at arm's length, so that he could read it by the light of the flame, which had turned back to blue white.

"The champion for Durmstrang," he read, in a strong clear voice. Breises sat up, alert. "Will be Viktor Krum."

Breises slammed a fist on the table, making a few people jump while a storm of applause and cheering swept the Hall. Viktor Krum rose from the Slytherin table and slouch up towards Dumbledore. He turned right, walked along the staff table and disappeared through the door between Eric and Holly, who were smiling brightly and clapping.

Breises was muttering angrily to herself in various foreign languages while the Goblet shot out a second piece of parchment.

"The champion for Beauxbatons is Fleur Delacour!"

A beautiful girl with a long sheet of silvery blonde hair gracefully got to her feet and swept up between the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables. Corvus had never noticed her before, but he stared after her intently, even through his miserable haze he recognized her attractiveness.

It was rather comforting actually, but when she disappeared into the side chamber it was over. This time the silence that filled the Hall was so stiff with excitement, Corvus felt smothered. The Hogwarts champion was next…

The Goblet turned red once more, sparks showered out of it and the tongue of flame shot high into the air, leaving behind a charred piece of parchment.

"The Hogwarts champion, is Cedric Diggory!"

The Slytherin table gave a mild applause while the Hufflepuff table exploded into celebration. Every one of them jumped to his or her feet, screaming and stomping, as Cedric made his way past them, grinning broadly and headed off towards the chamber behind the staff table. The applause for Cedric went on so long that it was some time before Dumbledore could make himself heard again.

"Wow, those tosers are really milking this," drawled Louis.

"It's Hufflepuff, being noticed isn't something they're used to," replied Anwar.

"Excellent!" Dumbledore called happily, as at last the tumult died down. "Well, we now have our three champions. I am sure I can count upon all of you, including the remaining students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, to give your champions every ounce of support you can muster. By cheering your champion on, you will contribute in a very real –"

But Dumbledore suddenly stopped speaking, and it was apparent to everyone what had distracted him. Even Corvus felt a very strong flicker of interest as the fire in the Goblet turned red again. Sparks were flying out of it. A long flame shot suddenly into the air, and borne upon it was another piece of parchment.

"What the hell?" breathed Daphne as their Headmaster automatically reached out his long hand to seize the parchment. There was a long pause, during which Dumbledore stared at the slip in his hand. He then cleared his throat and read out –

"_Harry Potter_."

**X  
X**

Potter didn't do it. Corvus knew that immediately. Potter was just as stunned as everyone else in the Hall when Dumbledore read his name aloud. It took him ages to actually get up from his seat. The second he'd past through the door into the side chamber, the Hall plunged into a wildfire of whispers. Dumbledore ordered the Prefects to escort their Houses back to their commons while the Durmstrang and Beauxbatons students returned to their temporary housings.

No one was going to bed just yet. The commons were overcrowded with angry Slytherins. They were confused at first, then very angry that Potter managed to outwit the Goblet of Fire when they hadn't. "Did you guys help him get past that Age Line?" asked some third-year. "What'd ya sell them?"

"We aren't the Salesmen," Max told him, irritated.

"Insanity this is," said Louis, sitting before the fireplace. "He can't compete, can he? It's against the rules."

"I don't know," said Brazda, "From what I understand the rules state that those people whose names come out of the Goblet of Fire are bound to compete in the Tournament. The age-limit was made up by the judges."

"I say we boycott all the events," said Malfoy, livid.

"We can't boycott the Triwizard Tournament," said Brazda.

"If Dumbledore allows Potter to compete, there would be outrage," said Warrington. "This is grossly unfair. I'd be ashamed of our House if one of _us_ had gotten into the tournament like this."

"Even if it had been you?" wondered Daphne. Warrington acted like he hadn't heard her. She grinned a little, "It might be fun to watch him compete. I mean, all the tasks are designed for advanced wizards, Potter's going to make a fool out of himself, isn't he?"

"Always pointing out the silver lining," said Anwar, smirking. She nodded appreciatively.

"I try."

"Dumbledore's probably going to help him out," hissed Malfoy. "He'd never let any harm come to his golden boy."

"Well I never thought I'd be rooting for a Hufflepuff, but better Diggory than Potter," sighed Louis. The hysteria was becoming too much, Corvus excused himself for the night.

Why would someone put Potter's name in? Corvus couldn't phantom the purpose of entering him to compete. He'd have a chance to win a thousand galleons. He might garner Hogwarts a bunch of pointless honor. _He could die while competing_, he thought grimly.

Max entered the room a few moments later, alone thankfully. He probably got fed up with the crowd too. "Potter didn't do it," Max said after a while. "The only thing or what, that could work on the Goblet of Fire would've been a very strong Confundus Charm."

"How'd you know that?" asked Corvus.

He shrugged, "It's a magical object. It's got a kind of mind, made up by rules set by a spell caster. You'd have to confuse it, make it bend its rules without it knowing or what. But who would do that for Potter?"

"I don't know," he half-lied. He obviously couldn't share his own theories on the matter.

**X  
X**

On Sunday morning, everyone in the Great Hall waited for Potter's arrival for breakfast. Most people were seething while waiting. Potter was nowhere to be seen though, Weasley and Granger showed up without him. Corvus figured it was a wise move on Potter's part.

Breises and the rest of the Durmstrang students weren't at breakfast either. None of Hogwarts' international guests were. It was clearly their way to express disappointment over the issue of having four champions.

After breakfast, Corvus went to the Owlry. He had to write his mother about this. She'd definitely want to know. He wasn't the only one with the idea to write home about the Goblet of Fire. Potter was sitting against the wall, writing a letter of his own while Granger strolled around the long lines of perches, looking at all the different owls.

They both noticed him enter, freezing to stare at him. There was a lengthy, awkward pause, as usual. But this time it was different; Corvus wasn't overcome with resentment at seeing them.

"Writing Sirius?" he assumed, sitting down too to write his own letter. He nodded. "Do you think he'll have any idea who entered you for the Triwizard Tournament?"

Potter nearly smiled, he was so relieved to hear this. "You don't think I did it?"

"You're not smart enough," he replied, and quickly added, "No offense. I just reckon only a very powerful Confundus Charm could do the trick on something like the Goblet of Fire."

"Yeah… that's what Moody said."

There was another pause between them. Corvus thought about telling him about meeting his mother and Sirius yesterday. They'd probably have a hundred different questions. He didn't have the energy for that. Besides, Corvus realized he hadn't asked his mum a lot of questions, except about his father.

"You're writing your mum?" asked Granger.

"She'd hate to have to learn about this in the _Daily Prophet_," he replied as he wrote the shortest letter of his life;

_Dear Mum, _

_Last night Potter was picked as the fourth Champion for the Triwizard Tournament.  
No one knows who put his name into the Goblet of Fire. Hope this information helps. _

_Corvus_

He finished before Potter and got to his feet. Pangloss was cleaning the feathers of his wing when Corvus held his letter up for him. Louis had always lent his owl out for the other Salesmen to use. Clearly though, the owl didn't like being a public messenger.

"Bring it to my mother," he told him. He took off immediately, hitting him over the head with his large wing.

"Finished," Potter told Granger, getting to his feet and brushing straw off his robes. At this, Potter's snowy white owl fluttered down onto his shoulder, and held out her leg. "I can't use you," Potter told her, looking around for the school owls. "I've got to use one of these…"

The owl gave a very loud hoot, and took off so suddenly that her talons cut into his shoulder. She kept her back to Potter all the time he was tying his letter to the leg of a large barn owl.

"Sirius told Harry not to use Hedwig anymore," explained Granger to Corvus. "She's quite a rare breed and could draw attention."

When the barn owl had flown off, Potter reached out to stroke Hedwig, but she clicked her beak furiously and soared up into the rafters out of reach.

"First, Ron, then you," said Potter angrily. Corvus frowned, wondering about Weasley's absence. "_This isn't my fault."_

**X  
X**

"Oi! Pretzel? Are you alright?" Louis called after him as they left the greenhouse after Herbology. The ex-Salesman was walking ahead of them by a pumpkin patch that had just been laid with new dragon manure.

"What?" he looked back at him, suspicious.

"Your hand," said Anwar, pointing to his right hand at his side. Jeremy glanced down at it, not realizing he was walking into their trap. "It's acting strange."

"What the hell, are you talking about, Rajan?"

"_Stop hitting yourself!"_

Daphne jumped out from behind a tree, her wand out and grinning. Jeremy's fist swung up to punch him in the face. He hadn't enough time to brace himself for the hit, it knocked him off his feet and he landed butt first in the dragon manure.

Everyone burst into laughter. They had Herbology with Gryffindor, they were even beside themselves with laughter. Katie Bell's face was as red as a tomato. The only person not snickering was Corvus, he'd barely cracked a smile.

"What's going on? What is this?" demanded professor Sprout as she weeded through them to find Jeremy sitting in dragon manure. For a moment she had to stop herself from snickering. "Who's responsible for this?"

She immediately looked to Corvus and the boys, but Jeremy pointed out Daphne. "Her too!"

She tried to take all the blame for the prank, but eventually she had to settle with just her, Louis and Anwar receiving detention. The three of them had apparently been planning it since the weekend.

"Alright, maybe the stop-hitting-yourself jinx wasn't the most original approach," admitted Louis at lunch. "But come on, he knocked himself off his feet."

"And right on top of the dragon manure," giggled Daphne.

"He's going to reek all day, it's going to be great," sneered Anwar. They had double Potions afterwards; Corvus didn't feel his usual dread at being locked in Snape's dungeon for an hour and a half. He was passive to it all.

Even when he messed up his Strengthening Solution and Snape swooped down on him for it, he didn't feel much frustration as he usually would. He barely heard Snape's sneering remarks or felt embarrassed when he ordered him start from scratch. The potion takes up to two weeks to complete, so he was now behind entirely.

"I'll come in with you to help," offered Max later when they met up to practice Animagi.

"It's whatever."

"Are you alright? You've been acting weird lately."

"How astute of you."

Max didn't ask any more questions. Corvus couldn't manage to change his hand into a chimp's paw, the easiest self-transfiguration. Max managed to get it before him; it took him til the last hour to get it right. Even then when he changed it back, there was plenty of coarse black hair left on his hand.

"Max, can I ask you something?" he said as he slowly corrected his hairy hand.

"Yeah."

"Are you ever afraid You-Know-Who's going to come back?"

Max made a gagging noise, like the question was so shocking it had taken his breath away. He blinked furiously for the next few seconds and the color in his face paled slightly. "Maybe. Sometimes. Why?"

"No one knows for sure that he's gone forever," he replied. "But you've thought of it too then?"

"Well, yeah," he said. "It's just, you know, I'm a Muggle… and Draco Malfoy's father was a Death Eater, Crabbe and Goyle's as well – you ever meet Theodore Nott? A year below us, _his _dad was a Death Eater too – it's no secret or what that Slytherin has turned out more Dark wizards than any other house. So yeah, I've thought about it."

"My mum was in Slytherin."

"Yeah, but… she was kind of a Death Eater for a while, she was married to one anyway."

Corvus was quiet. Max could've also pointed out that Ascanius Stirling was a Death Eater, he'd been in Slytherin too. Bellatrix Lestrang was another Slytherin turned Death Eater and a relative of his.

"Why'd you ask?"

Corvus shrugged. "It's been on my mind for a while."

"Because of Moody?"

He looked at his friend. "He's been making us read up on all these Dark wizards. You've got family coming up."

"Yeah I guess that's it."

**X  
X**

No matter what, Corvus couldn't concentrate. Every class was a struggle practically, but it wasn't because the topics were difficult. It was because something in him had been turned off. In Muggle Studies, Professor Burbage returned marked quizzes they'd taken at the beginning of the week.

"Not your best work, Mr. Black," she commented as she handed him his. He'd gotten only an 'Acceptable.' McLaggen heard her comment and he tried craning his neck so he could spy his grade from across the aisle. Corvus turned it facedown.

"It was quite hard," said Marietta kindly. She'd gotten an 'E.' Once the bell rang, Corvus was happy to leave but as he past through the door, McLaggen roughly shoved past him. Corvus nearly dropped his notes and he glared at the thickhead. But he didn't reach for his wand, like he would normally had.

"Corvus, are you alright?" asked Marietta.

"Fine."

"McLaggen is such a brute," she said, still studying him, worried.

"Yeah, he is."

Friday night Corvus wondered the empty corridors like a ghost while on patrol. Anwar and Daphne were on their run that night. He didn't know what was on the agenda for the Salesmen that night. Possibly they were meeting Dung, possibly they were making a good profit that weekend, but he couldn't remember any of the details.

Corvus was walking through the dungeons, checking his pocket watch to see how much time he had until he could finally go to bed.

_Clunk_.

He stopped at the sound. Someone was out pass curfew.

"Just come out," he called to them. He heard a gruff response. Moody stepped out from behind a corner, his mangled face twisted into a grin. "Oh sorry, professor thought you were a student."

"No worries, didn't give me a fright, lad," he said in his usual growl, "Doubt you'd give anyone a fright these days, Black." He'd been performing poorly in Defense too, but he'd hoped Moody hadn't taken note. "What's been on your mind?"

"Excuse me?"

"Something's been bothering you," he told him. "I've noticed the lack all concentration, from a mile away. Something must've happened, you were too good to be slipping like this for no reason."

"I'm still good," he said, irritated.

Moody scoffed, "Tell me what happened."

Corvus bit his bottom lip, debating about how much he should reveal. Moody did know everything, after all. "I met with my mother a few days ago. She told me about the strange developments with Ascanius and that Squib gone missing. And now Potter's been entered into the Tournament by someone… everything seems to be headed towards something bad, doesn't it?

"Your mother didn't tell you all this to depress you, she told you so you could man up, get ready for the fight," he growled. "You know how to fight, Black. Disappointing to see you forgot that."

Corvus felt his face heat up. "I didn't forget anything, but dueling in your class, professor, is a lot different to what I imagine it will be like up against _actual_ enemies."

"You've got to rethink your approach to this, Black. I had you pegged to be someone who'd face this head on."

"What because I'm a bloody Prefect?"

"I know your mother. She's a survivor and I figured she'd raised you the same way."

Corvus's jaw clenched.

"Suppose she spoiled you though, because the minute something doesn't go the way you like it you pout."

His face felt like it was going to explode. He'd never been spoken to like that. Usually he would've hit them with a brutal Stinging Hex by the end of the first insult, but he couldn't do that to a professor.

"Prove me wrong, Black, if you can," he growled before limping off. Corvus listened to the clunking of his wooden leg. The sound was ringing his head.

**X  
X**

_I do not pout_, he thought angrily as he returned to the commons. How dare Moody speak to him like that! It wasn't his place to pass judgment on him. Moody had no idea what Corvus was capable of. Their stupid little duels in class barely proved anything. _What was he even doing in the dungeons? He's a complete loon. _

He started off to his dormitory, but was distracted when he noticed a few people huddled by the fireplace. Intrigued he went over.

Louis, Max, Malfoy and his two goons were in their pajamas holding a bunch of what looked like badges. "What are you doing?"

"Trying to show our non-support for Potter," sneered Louis, his wand pointed at the badge. "We're trying to get them to say something about how he's a fraud."

"And stinks," added Malfoy.

"Everything's about bloody Potter," snapped Corvus viciously. They seemed a little caught off guard by his outburst. Corvus was practically panting he was so furious.

"Yeah," agreed Malfoy adamantly. "Maybe we can profit off it for once, like sell these for some money?" He looked to the Salesmen eagerly. Corvus gave a cruel laugh though, whipping out his own wand.

"Now, now, let's be generous," he leered. His friends lit up with cheeky grins of their own. "Tell me what you want, and I'll get it done."

By the end of the hour, they had a box full of badges that bore the same message, written in luminous red letters that burnt brightly;

_Support CEDRIC DIGGORY –  
The REAL Hogwarts Champion!_

But Corvus didn't stop there, he bewitched it so when the badge was pressed, the message changed into a glowing green one;

_POTTER STINKS_


	18. Dueling Man

**Dueling Man**

Pansy Parkinson and her gang of Slytherin girls were laughing the hardest when they passed out POTTER STINKS badges in the commons the next day. They had a little over eighty badges. Max didn't think they needed to break a hundred, but they were going quick in Slytherin alone.

"You're going to hand this out to people?" inquired Blaise Zabini, skeptical but amused. He held his badge in his open palm like he was unsure he wanted to keep it. "To just anyone?"

"I'm sure these sentiments are shared by others outside of Slytherin," grinned Corvus as he gave several third years badges. The Salesmen were seated before the fireplace, surrounded by curious housemates.

"Afraid it'll clash with your outfit, Blaise?" teased Daphne.

His lip twitched into the faintest smile, "I can pull it off."

Daphne laughed and after she'd given away all the badges she had, she lit up a Tentette. The commons were filled with a thin veil of smoke on a regular basis now, which pleased all the Salesmen greatly. The girls seemed to have caught onto the trend first. It was very popular in Ravenclaw too.

"Oi! Oi! Listen up!" called Louis, standing up on a leather armchair so he was seen across the dungeon. "Don't start wearing these badges until tomorrow _afternoon!_ Potter's got to be the first to see them outside of us lot, all right? It's up to our fourth years to introduce him to our new campaign."

"I can't wait to see his stupid face," said Goyle, really pacing his words. Several people's eyebrows rose at the word 'stupid' coming out of _his _mouth.

"You're going to look like a decorated war-hero, Black," said Montague, gesturing to Corvus's chest where he had both his prefect and POTTER STINKS badge pinned. Corvus snickered.

"You can't wear that badge," Brazda said, suddenly behind him.

"He's got to wear it," interrupted Malfoy, giving her a slightly annoyed look.

Louis jumped down from the chair, barely containing his smirk and approached them, "What's the harm of him wearing it, Mara?"

"Stay out of this, Vaisey."

"He just wants to show support for his _fellow Prefect_! Don't tell me your heart doesn't bleed for Diggory too."

The people around them chuckled, but Brazda's face remained cold as stone.

"Let's be honest," said Daphne tentatively, "Dumbledore knew who he was picking when he selected Corvus prefect."

"Exactly," he agreed smugly.

"Maybe he's trying to change you," said Warrington, suddenly struck by the brilliant theory. "By giving you that badge, you know."

Corvus ignored him.

"You could just wear it in the commons," suggested Max. Brazda perked up at the compromise at once, nodding adamantly.

"Excellent idea."

Corvus rolled his eyes, "Sure, whatever."

"Someone's looking for you."

He turned to see Tracey Davis stepping up into their circle. She hadn't been in the commons a moment ago, evidenced by the fact that she bore no POTTER STINKS badge. Her ash-blonde hair was up into a ponytail, so her heart-shaped face was very pronounced and so were her catlike hazel eyes. She'd gotten taller too, from what Corvus could remember.

She had a big grin on her face. He was worried, last year Tracey made a habit of meddling in his relationship with Morag McDougal. She had some pleasure in causing him trouble with her. "What are you talking about?"

"Someone's looking for you," she repeated sweetly. "She's waiting in the Entrance Hall."

"Yeah, who?"

"Guess," she teased.

"Tracey tell him," Daphne cut in. Corvus glanced over at her, she appeared to have been watching them this entire time.

"_Fine_," she smirked. "Your cousin is looking for you, Corvus."

He gave a small sigh of relief. She titled her head quizzically.

"Why? Who did you think I meant?"

Corvus glared at her as he got out of his seat. She watched him leave the commons.

**X  
X**

Breises stood alone in the middle of the Entrance Hall in her blood red robes. Several Hogwarts students stared at her in passing; it felt like ages since they'd seen any of the foreign students.

"Durmstrang's finished protesting us?" he smirked. She hadn't noticed him approaching; she was too busy critically eying a group of sixth years passing by.

"We've discovered a way to give us an edge too," she replied coolly. "Or Professor Karkaroff has, he will never tell anyone but Viktor. I don't think it will help him, Viktor Krum will need a lot more help than what Karkaroff can give."

Corvus scoffed, "Wonderful support you're showing."

"I did not choose him as my champion."

"This has nothing to do with the fact that _you _weren't chosen?"

"I submitted my name because I wanted the chance to represent my school and prove my worthiness," she said haughtily. "So yes, I am upset I was not picked, but I also don't think Viktor is a better choice than me."

"I'm sure he's not," he kept grinning, "From what I understand the Goblet was very confused that night, didn't know which way was up."

"Ha, ha," she drawled. "You think I am just jealous. You think because Viktor is good on a broomstick, he is good at everything? No, Viktor has one talent, only. A one-trick pony, as you say."

"Huh, did you want to see me about this?" he asked. "Because this is a bit of a waste of time, as you say."

She looked impressed. "You are right, complaining does not help. And you're not like Viktor, cousin, you have more than one talent," she said slyly. "I have heard things in my short time here, about you and your friends."

"Really? Good things I hope."

"Interesting things," she told him. "But I don't think I understand everything. What is the Salesmen?"

Corvus pondered for a moment the best way to answer her. He looked around, checking if anyone was listening or watching them. The Entrance Hall was empty and in fact, the entire castle felt rather dead. "Follow me, Breises."

It had been years since Corvus gave a tour to the boys' bathroom on the sixth floor. The Salesmen only brought disbelievers there during their first few months of business. As they walked up the flight of stairs, Corvus gave Breises his POTTER STINKS badge.

She marveled at it, "You are very good at magic, cousin."

They came to the fourth floor and as they passed by the library, the doors opened. Out came Max and Cho Chang, chattering and smiling. They stopped abruptly when they saw Breises and Corvus.

"Hi, Breises," said Max sheepishly, "Haven't seen you in a while."

Breises was looking at Cho Chang, unblinkingly like a hawk.

"Huh, this is Cho," he introduced her. "She's in Ravenclaw, and my – our friend."

"I'm in Max and Corvus's year," she held out her hand. Breises took it, but she remained staring at her without saying anything for a pause. Finally she broke her silence, after everyone became sufficiently awkward;

"Pleasure to meet you."

"We're on our wait out," said Max. "But we'll see you later."

"Alright, see you," replied Corvus, curious as hell about why this encounter was so tense. He expected Breises to say something as they continued up to the sixth floor. It wasn't until he was opening the door for her to the bathroom that she said something.

"Is that girl his girlfriend?"

"I don't think so, just friends," he summarized. Breises nodded and didn't say anything more. She entered ahead of Corvus. He pointed to the back, to where the blank wall stood with those large, black, spidery letters he wrote over four years ago. Proud, he stood back and watched his cousin stare up at the message.

"_But all for a fee_," she repeated aloud and turned to him, smiling. "Very cool, cousin."

**X  
X**

"What happened Weasley? Potter no longer fun to leech off of?" sneered Malfoy as they lined up outside of Potions the next day. "Or do you just reckon he won't be alive after the First Task? I suppose you ought to curl up under some other over-rated idiot's shadow."

Crabbe and Goyle guffawed and the girls giggled, except for Daphne who stood a little apart from her classmates to stand with Anwar and Corvus. They were standing at the top of the hallway by the stairs to the Entrance Hall, waiting for Potter to arrive.

"Piss off, Malfoy," grumbled Weasley, his ears going red. Corvus frowned, wondering what rift occurred within the Gryffindor Trio.

"Corvus!" snapped an angry Brazda. He looked up at the stairs. "The bell's going to ring, we've got to set up things. Come on!"

He groaned, but it was no use. She would find him if he tried to hide. He quickly told Daphne and Anwar to give him a full recap later about Potter then followed her.

Apparently one of the ideas Brazda submitted to the Head Boy and Girl for the Triwizard Tournament was to set up a refreshment table for the Weighing of the Wands ceremony – where ministry officials and members of the press will be attending. Brazda made it so only Corvus was involved in the set up along with her, Eric Greene and Holly Spencer.

The Weighing of the Wands was going to take place in a fairly small classroom. Setting up was rather easy. Two of the sixth year Prefects were helping too, and Corvus felt there was hardly enough work for any of them. All they did was push the desk away to the back of the room, leaving a large space in the middle. They put three desks though together, end-to-end, in front of the blackboard and they covered it with a long length of velvet. Five chairs had been set behind the velvet-covered desks.

"Eric? Could you get the pumpkin juice, herbal teas and water pitcher please from the kitchens?" asked Brazda, reading from a list she'd written out. "Also, Holly, I think it would be best if you went with him to the kitchens and check on the appetizer platter. I just don't trust the aesthetics of house-elves."

Considering Coco's taste, Corvus couldn't disagree. The second he thought of his own house-elf, he felt a slight sense of homesickness. It would've been nice to see the crazy elf last week.

Holly and Eric exchanged looks. They weren't pleased with taking orders from a rookie prefect, but on the other hand they'd given Brazda full command on this project. "Alright," said Eric.

"Afterwards though, dear, we're going to have to get the champions," explained Holly, smiling suddenly, "Eric and me already decided – I'll get Viktor Krum."

Eric nodded, "And I'll just make sure Madame Maxime and – er – Fleur know when to come…"

"So if one of you will get Potter and Cedric when we're ready, that would be perfect," said Holly before they left to fulfill Brazda's orders.

"You're going to get Potter," Corvus told her immediately. She sighed exasperatedly and muttered something under her breath, but she accepted it.

Corvus discreetly checked his pocket watch to see how much he was missing History of Magic when a knock came at the door.

"They're early!" squeaked Brazda as the door swung open. With his usually springy stride, Ludo Bagman entered the room, immediately filling it with his large personality and bright smile. After him came a witch Corvus had never seen before. She wore magenta robes. Her hair was set in elaborate and curiously rigid curls that contrasted oddly with her heavy-jawed face. She wore jeweled spectacles.

"Ah! Corvin my boy!" Bagman bounded forward. Corvus's grey eyes narrowed.

"It's –"

"_Corvus_ Black," the woman said, her eyes on him strangely. She held out a thick-fingered hand. Each of her fingers ended in two-inch nails, painted crimson. "Rita Skeeter, special correspondent for the _Daily Prophet." _

"How's Leandra? Haven't seen her for ages," said Bagman. "Tried a few times to see her at the Tower, but she's a busy bee that one!"

"Yeah," his lip curled at the former England Beater before looking to Rita Skeeter again.

"Spitting image of your father," she said in an eerie soft voice. "Did you know, my career is very closely linked to your mother's."

"Is it?" Corvus knew Skeeter had written several articles about his mother, years ago. She'd been the first one to start the rumors about Sirius being Corvus's biological father.

"My first piece for the _Daily Prophet_ was a coverage on your mother's indoctrination as the first female Master Crafter," she told him. "I'd love to get some one on one time with her again, hear her thoughts on where she is today on a professional and personal level. My readers would _love it."_

"Right…"

"Her life's been very colorful, hasn't it? So much to show for it, including a very handsome son – who's a Prefect! How charming. Though, it's hard to imagine she's been very present during your formative years… "

"Yes, huh, do you want something to drink?" he gestured to the table Brazda stood by still.

"Oh treats!" Bagman cried happily. Rita Skeeter cleared her throat.

"Ludo, I wonder if maybe you'll introduce me to Harry Potter finally?" she said to him. "I've been waiting for days now to meet our youngest champion, you know… my readers as well."

"Ah! Right!" he laughed. "Do we know where he is right now?"

"He's in Potions, sir," answered Brazda.

"Be a dear and get him for us? Just tell his professor Ludo Bagman wants him up here," he told her as he picked up cookies from the tray. "The other champions will have to be summoned too, for the photographs, but let's start with getting Potter here."

Rita Skeeter slid up next to Corvus as Bagman explained, "While we wait for Potter, I'd love –"

"I'll go get him!" volunteered Corvus quickly.

**X  
X**

"Say Bagman wants him – all the champions are supposed to do photographs and rubbish for the press."

Colin Creevey's obnoxious face lit up excitedly. "_Wow_ – the press is here for Harry? Is it the _Daily Prophet?_"

"They're hear for all the champions." Never in his wildest dreams did Corvus believe he'd ever need Colin Creevey's help. But the idea of interrupting Snape's classroom did not bode well with Corvus. Snape didn't need any more reasons to resent him.

Creevey was on his way to Care of Magical Creatures when Corvus got him. It was easy to convince the third year to do his bidding. He only had to use Potter's name.

"Now, go," he waved the annoying boy away. Corvus waited by the stairs up to the Entrance Hall. He watched Creevey knock on the classroom door and inch inside.

Once alone Corvus thought about Rita Skeeter. His mother never had a kind word to say about her. He should probably warn her that the reporter was covering the Triwizard Tournament. Maybe he should even warn Potter about her.

"It's amazing, isn't it, Harry?" Corvus heard Creevey say as him and Potter left the classroom.

"Yeah, really amazing. What do they want photos for, Colin?"

"The _Daily Prophet, _I think."

"Great," said Potter, darkly. "Exactly what I need. More publicity."

He noticed Corvus waiting for him. It was easy to see that Potter wasn't have a good day, Corvus could only imagine what his class with Slytherin had been like. The Salesman tried not to grin.

"Get to class," he told Creevey. He led Potter to the room. It was too short of a trip for either of them to say anything, until Corvus opened the door for him and let him pass through first. Finally letting himself grin, Corvus called after Potter, "I think you dropped something."

Potter turned and Corvus held out his hand, revealing a POTTER STINKS badge. His face was priceless. The trick had caught him completely off guard. He probably thought Corvus was close to being a friend thanks to that brief encounter at the Owlry.

Bagman spotted Potter and bounded forwards at the youngest champion. Corvus quickly hid the badge before anyone saw it. Viktor Krum was standing moodily in a corner as Brazda and Holly Spencer stood a few steps away, in awe of him.

Diggory and Fleur were in conversation. Fleur kept throwing back her head so that her long silvery hair caught the light. Corvus found himself lured by it and without knowing why, he ended up standing with the two champions.

"Hey, Corvus," smiled Diggory. He blinked, snapping out of his semi-trance.

"Hey."

"I'm Fleur Delacour," Fleur introduced herself with a handshake.

"Corvus Black."

"I'd be nervous sitting for an interviewing with her," said Diggory, gesturing to Rita Skeeter as she stealthily steered Potter out of the room. "She never makes anyone sound good."

Fleur made a huffy sort of noise, "'Ee iz making a joke out of this."

The door to the small classroom opened again. He glanced over to see Dumbledore entering with an old wizard with large, pale eyes. In a split second he heard the snapping of fingers. Brazda caught his attention and made the gesture of offering the Headmaster and his guest a drink. Rolling his eyes and dragging his feet, he went over to Dumbledore. "Sir, would you like something to drink?"

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as he smiled at him. "No thank you, Mr. Black. Have you met Mr. Ollivander?"

He knew of course who Mr. Ollivander was. He was the wand-maker most people bought their wands from in England. When Corvus was eleven and unaware of his mother's true identity, he hadn't been allowed to visit _Ollivander's Wand Shop_ because they say Mr. Ollivander remembers every wand he sells. He would've recognized his mother.

"Mr. Ollivander, allow me to introduce you to one of our finest students here at Hogwarts, Corvus Black," the Headmaster said. Corvus assumed another handshake was in order, but instead of taking his hand, Ollivander studied Corvus curiously.

"_Black?_ Son of Regulus and Leandra Black, yes?"

He nodded. The old wizard gave him a wide smile.

"Ah, I remember – your mother's wand contains a phoenix feather from a bird I found in the Amazon, the eve of it's death… eight inches… elder and durable. She's done very great things with it, I'm pleased to see."

Corvus felt a little disarmed though he'd heard rumors of his excellent memory. He didn't have to ask to hear about his father.

"Regulus, hmm yes – eleven and a half inches, rosewood… excellent for a dueling man."

"Dueling?" he frowned. His mother said Regulus never dueled. Her exact words were 'He didn't have to' and he 'had a special kind of style. Everyone knew they couldn't beat him, so they never tried.' Perhaps his father did duel – real duels, not the kinds Corvus was so fond of at school. The thought made him feel queasy. _Did he ever kill anyone?_

"I wonder, may I examine your wand?" asked Mr. Ollivander.

"Sure…" He took his wand out. Like any wizard, he was fond of his and he wondered what Mr. Ollivander would have to say. Was this wand 'excellent for a dueling man' as well?

"I'm correct in thinking this is a Gregorovitch creation?" he lifted the wand and examined it minutely, turning it over and over before his eyes.

"Yes, sir. My mother got it especially made for me by Gregorovitch, he'd already retired when she requested it be made."

"Gregorovitch always was fond of the Stirling family, before they started attending Hogwarts," he said. "Ivy and phoenix feather?" He nodded. "There's a slight curve to it, not usually necessary… swishy… thirteen and a half inches." He looked at Corvus and gave him another smile as he handed him back his wand, "Appropriate."

"Corvus? A word , please," a hand latched onto him. Brazda had arrived, clearly shaken by the thought that another prefect was getting more face time with the Headmaster than she. "You can head back to class if you'd like. I've got everything handled."

"Okay," he said, still thinking about what Mr. Ollivander said.

**X  
X**

Over the next fortnight, Corvus barely had enough spare time to continue thinking about who his father might've been. Schoolwork was relentless, they practiced Animagi nearly every other night and the flow of business never missed a beat.

"I can't believe Diggory's taking this lying down," sneered Corvus one night in Myrtle's bathroom. While he watched Max attempt changing his own nose into a pig snout, he lazily browsed that day's _Daily Prophet_. It was the fifteenth read of Rita Skeeter's cover story on the Triwizard Tournament. "At least Fleur and Viktor got their names in at the end – misspelled of course, but still, Diggory wasn't even acknowledged."

Max couldn't respond. His transfiguration wasn't coming out right. The cartilage of his nose kept popping loudly and it looked like it was about to melt off his face all together. His eyes were tearing up.

There was a whining noise from one of the bathroom stalls. Myrtle's silvery face was peeking out from behind the door. "Please stop, I like your nose the way it is…"

Corvus closed the _Daily Prophet_. "This is very uncomfortable to watch."

Max only could glare at him. Corvus waved his wand and in a flash of white light there was a series of very quick _pops_. Max's nose was back to normal, but it was bruised. "Thanks," he sounded stuffy. "I've been thinking, or what, about getting us extra help for Animagi."

"Extra help?"

"Okay, the extra help would be more for my benefit," he gave his half-smirk. "But Breises is pretty far long the process, she's already changed others into various mammals. Maybe she could give us a few pointers?"

"You realize this is illegal, you know, what we're trying to accomplish? This isn't Charms Club we're involved in."

"I know, but I also know it's going to take bloody forever like this."

"We don't know Breises, Max, not enough anyway." Corvus turned his own nose into a perfect pink and fleshy snout. "I think we could manage on our own."

"Just think about it, that's all," he said. "She's very smart."

**X  
X**

The Salesmen were at the library the day before the first Hogsmeade trip of the year. They sat at the same table every library visit since their first year. It was a table in the far back secluded by several towering shelves and they came here to do their number crunching for the Salesmen's exploits.

"People been placing bets for the Tasks," said Louis quietly, pulling out a folded piece of parchment with names. "Not a lot of bids on who's going to _win_, just a lot of bets on Potter losing."

"But his dead mum and dad will be watching over him," smirked Anwar. "Won't that improve his chances?"

"Should we start taking orders from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students?" asked Max, shuffling through a few request forms.

"As long as they pay in Galleons," said Corvus, "we don't have the time to convert their funny currencies."

"That's reasonable."

"Our tentettes are going fast," said Daphne, looking over the spreadsheet. "A little too fast. The herbs aren't drying out fast enough for us to make them."

"There could be a spell that can help us out with that," replied Max. "We can look into it later."

"Okay, I mean some of it will be ready tonight, just not enough."

"He comes in here a lot, don't he?" said Louis suddenly gesturing over at Viktor Krum, who'd just taken a seat a few yards away.

"Reckon he's looking up spells to help him in the First Task," said Corvus. A group of girls shuffled into the library, inching up behind a bookshelf quite near to the Salesmen to watch Krum

"Damn cocknobber," hissed Max. He didn't like the idea of having so many students around, increased the chances of eavesdroppers. "You'd think they'd keep him locked up on their ship or what."

Later that night, Corvus and Daphne went on the run to pick up supplies from Dung and then to the Shrieking Shack to make as many Tentettes as possible. Once they'd ground up the dried leafs and herbs, they had to tightly roll them up in thin strips of paper. It was a frustrating feat, one that Corvus hadn't quite grasped while Daphne excelled at.

After an hour, Daphne had a sizeable pile of Tentettes by her side on the floor while Corvus only had nine. As was common by now, conversation quickly turned to Rita Skeeter's article on Potter. "Honestly, since _when_ has Potter been a top student?" she laughed. "He's the definition of average. From what I can tell anyway."

"He is."

"Do you think he really cries about his parents?"

"I don't know," he sneered, "the thought of it is enough for me."

"I've heard he hates the Muggles he lives with," she said, delicately rolling a Tentette.

"Yeah, I've heard that too." A little bitterness might've escaped him, he couldn't help but think of how many times Sirius had talked about Potter's aunt and uncle.

"I don't envy him."

"Potter?"

"Well, yeah – doesn't sound like he's had it that easy."

"He's had it okay."

"How'd you know?"

"I can just tell."

"It can't be easy living up to the reputation of being the _Boy Who Lived_," she said. "Everyone's expecting something great from him."

"Well he's got Granger to comfort him, doesn't he?"

"Come on, you of all people ought to have some sympathy for him," she finally paused in her work. Corvus frowned at her. "You're sort of famous too."

"I'm not famous," he replied sharply. "My mum's famous, my family is, not me."

"Don't you resent that, a little?" she asked. "When people hear who you are, they think about all that stuff."

"I guess… I mean, everyone has to live up to who their parents are," he shrugged.

"That's true. And you want to be better than them, or at least I want to do better than my father."

"Same here," he said quietly. She paused from her work and stared over at him. "Don't know much about him… 'cept he played Seeker for Slytherin and he was a Death Eater."

"I'd wager he was more complex than that," she told him.

"That's what people have told me."

"At least for me, I know, I wouldn't change who my dad is, because he really wants me to be happy," she explained. "So I don't know – most parents are like that, aren't they? They want us to be happy."

Two years ago, Corvus overheard Zacharias Smith insult Daphne's father, saying something about him drinking their family name under. Besides that, the only thing he knew about her home life was that her house-elf left them after her mother abandoned them. He didn't know much about Daphne, but he knew she could sympathize with him in many ways. He marveled at how well she hid it.

He smiled at her and held up one of the few Tentettes he'd made, "You're very good at this."

She laughed, "Yeah, I surprised myself. Comes naturally to me, I guess."


	19. Stirling's Final Justice

**Stirling's Final Justice **

On Saturday morning before the first task, Corvus received an unusual amount of mail when the owls came fluttering into the Great Hall during breakfast. There were over a dozen letters, from names he couldn't recognize if his life depended on it. People at the Slytherin table actually stared at him as letters piled up on his plate before him.

Fortunately, in addition to his letters from strangers, he received a letter from his mother. It foreshadowed what the other letters were about.

_Corvus_

_The Ministry's contacted me. Ascanius has died. He was found without a pulse, they haven't exact details.  
They requested I come to identify the body as his closest living relative. I've told them to cremate him.  
The Daily Prophet will feature his obituary. I only spoke to them briefly. I don't know what all this means. _

_I love you  
And be seeing you soon,  
Mum _

He didn't know what to do. He sat there staring at her letter. He couldn't absorb what this meant. Of course he'd never met Ascanius, until two summers ago he didn't even know they were related, but he was a shadow over his life. Ascanius dying should be good news. It shouldn't feel this strange.

"Are you okay?" asked Daphne from across the table.

"Who's Bernadette Pickstaff?" wondered Louis, picking up one of the letters. "Does she go to Hogswarts? Are these love letters?"

"My-my uncle died," croaked Corvus. "Ascanius. He's dead."

They didn't seem to know what this meant either. Corvus never spoke of Ascanius Stirling. He had no reason to. Anwar fearlessly brought the silence, "Isn't that a good thing? Considering he almost murdered you and your mum."

"Yeah, 'course," he nodded, distractedly.

"That's probably what all the letters are about," said Max.

"How'd they know?" said Louis.

"My mum said the _Daily Prophet's _going to feature his obituary," Corvus told him. Almost on queue the entire Great Hall began to quiver as students received the latest _Daily Prophet_ in the post. Max got him dropped beside Corvus's pile of letters. Much of the front page had been given over to a picture of Ascanius Stirling with the title _Final Justice._ The picture had been from years before Ascanius was sent to jail, his face was handsome and regal. He could see the features him and his mother shared.

Corvus snatched it from Max and read aloud, "On midnight November 11th, Ascanius Stirling was pronounced dead by mediwizard officials at the wizard prison Nurmengard. Officials speculate his death is due to heart failure, possibly linked to a dire illness that had been plaguing Stirling since mid-summer."

"Did you know he was sick?" asked Max. Corvus nodded. He fell quiet as he continued reading.

… _Stirling was responsible for over twenty murders between 1978 and 1981 as a follower of_ _He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named…  
He'd only pled guilty to the murders of Muggle victims and his own family members…_

'_It is surreal,' says Madam Crafter Leandra Black outside her estate near Bristol. Ms. Black is the sister of Ascanius Stirling.  
She is one of the few survivors of the Stirling Massacre. 'Maybe I'll feel safer, or happy, one day but right now mentioning  
him only makes me remember what he did. I'll never forget that.' _

_While Ms. Black is still in the processing stage of this news, many in the nation will welcome this with a great sigh of relief.  
The Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge released a statement upon the announcement. _'_A great shadow has been lifted from  
Britain today. People had their doubts, but justice has been served to one of our nation's most horrendous criminals and  
now we can move on. This is a new age, an age full of hope and light.'_

The article included profiles on Ascanius's more prolific victims, such as Edgar Bones and Corvus's grandparents. Amelia Bones gave a quote. At the end, Corvus's heart leapt when he read his own name.

_The youngest survivor of the Stirling Massacre is Ms. Black's sixteen-year-old son, Corvus Black. He's currently attending  
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardary. A top student and prefect, he's overcome his family's past as Ms. Black has…_

The letters he'd received were from readers of the _Daily Prophet_, expressing their relief about Ascanius's death and encouraging him to continue on his path as a 'bright and upright' boy.

"They don't have a quote from any of the officials at Nurmengard," noted Max as he read the obituary. "They don't even offer a possible explanation of what condition he had."

Corvus frowned, his friend was right. It was possible they didn't know. The officials also didn't know about Métis, Potter's dream and Peter Pettigrew.

**X  
X**

Though he wasn't in the mood to socialize, he was also not in the mood to be trapped alone with his own thoughts. So he went on the Hogsmeade trip with his friends, notably silent and they didn't bother him. Even Breises knew not to make a fuss about Ascanius's death to him.

"I'm glad hearing that he died alone and sick," was all she told him when the Durmstrang students met up with them in the Entrance Hall. She was out of her school uniform and instead wore a pretty green dress. Poliakoff and two of her girlfriends were with her, but no Viktor. Louis was disappointed. "Our headmaster is thinking it is best for him to stay," she explained sardonically. "He worries he might catch a cold, that'll ruin his chances in the Tournament."

"Doesn't this village have a very haunted house?" asked Poliakoff as they walked down High Street.

"The Shrieking Shack, yeah people get murdered there regularly," answered Anwar. Daphne tried to cover her laugh with a cough. The Durmstrang students looked interested.

"Can we go?"

"Pretty boring stuff for us by now," said Louis.

"I'll take you," offered Max. This made Breises smile, her smile lasted until she left Corvus's field of vision as they set off High Street to glimpse the faux-haunted house.

Corvus, Anwar, Louis and Daphne headed towards the Three Broomsticks. They got a table close to the bar. Corvus and Daphne went up to get the first round of Butterbeer.

"I wonder if Susan Bones came out today," said Daphne. She gestured over to a table where Hannah Abbott and Ernie Macmillan sat, swapping Chocolate Frog cards. "She's usually always with Hannah."

"Bones?" he repeated. "Is she…"

Daphne nodded, "Edgar Bones was her uncle."

"Oh."

"First year quite a few people asked her about it."

Corvus wondered when people were going to start asking him about _his_ uncle.

"Here you go, dear, two Butterbeers," Madam Rosemerta gave two pints to Hermione Granger. She past by Corvus without noticing him and she proceeded to a table in the corner. By the looks of it she was sitting alone. But then Granger slid one of the pints across the table and it disappeared.

_Potter…_Because of Corvus's involvement the night Sirius escaped, he knew about Potter's Invisibility Cloak.

"Hey Corvus!"

Marietta Edgecombe came up beside him after he placed his order with Madam Rosemerta. Marietta and the rest of the Ravenclaw girls were sitting at a table by the door. They were all smiling and chattering away busily. A few of them were wearing _Support CEDRIC DIGGORY _badges. Marietta was not.

"Oh wow, what an odd couple," she laughed suddenly. Hagrid's enormous shaggy head emerged over the crowd. He'd been leaning low talking to Professor Moody. Hagrid had a huge tankard in front of him while Moody was drinking from his hip-flask. "Don't you think it's silly how he only drinks from that flask? Does he really think someone's going to poison him?"

"Yeah…" Corvus said distractedly as he watched Hagrid and Moody get up to leave. Moody however paused, his magical eye on the corner where Granger and Potter sat. Moody tapped Hagrid in the small of the back, muttered something to him and then the pair of them made their way back across the pub towards Granger's table.

**X  
X**

"Black!" grunted Moody as Corvus was on his way out of Defense Against the Dark Arts. He'd guessed Moody might speak to him since Ascanius's obituary.

Corvus followed Moody to his office. He'd only once visited this office under its previous occupant, Lupin. He'd filled the room with Dark creatures he'd procured for his classes to study. Now, however, the office was full of a number of exceptionally odd objects.

On his desk stood what looked like a large, cracked, glass-spinning top. It was a Sneakoscope, Corvus had always had a certain dislike for those. In the corner on a small table stood a Secrecy Sensor. It was humming slightly. There was a mirror hanging on the wall opposite him, but it was not reflecting the room. Shadowy figures were moving around inside it, none of them clearly in focus.

Corvus frowned, "Is that a Foe-Glass?"

"You know your Dark detectors," said Moody.

"My mum had a few of them around when I was little."

Moody pulled out a folded copy of the _Daily Prophet_ with Ascanius's picture on the front page. "Don't remember ever reading a Death Eater's obituary on the front page."

"Killed enough people, didn't he?"

"Nah – what made Stirling special was his victims."

His magical eye turned to him while his normal one kept glancing over the article. Corvus didn't know what to say, obviously Moody was right. Ascanius Stirling hadn't just killed Muggles. He brought the once mighty Stirling Tower to its knees.

"Your mum has something to do with it too," he said suddenly. "The public is a bit fascinated with her, aren't they? Moving on, we've got to talk about something else."

"Yes, sir?"

"Potter."

"Yeah?" he drawled.

"The odds are already against him in this Tournament," he said gruffly. "He'll need as much help as he can get to keep one step ahead of whoever's plotting against him."

"No one's supposed to help the champions. It's against the rules, sir."

"Since when have you cared about the rules?" he grinned lopsidedly. "Besides, cheating's a traditional part of the Triwizard Tournament. I'll bet you a thousand Galleons myself that old Karkaroff and Maxime are telling their champions everything they can. They want to win."

"I don't know what I can offer."

"You're clever, laddie, that's what you can offer."

He grimaced, "He's got Granger, she's smart – top of her year I think."

"What's your problem with Potter?" he asked, amused.

"Nothing." Both of Moody's eyes were on him. "Why doesn't Potter just forfeit at every Task? Get himself disqualified so they'll have to pull him out – solves the problem doesn't it? Why does he actually have to compete? No one wants him to."

"It's not in his nature to give up."

"Fine," he said. "Even if I was to help Potter, I don't know any of his strengths. What kind of strategies can be built around him? The only thing I know he's good at is Quidditch – and Krum's better at that than him."

"He's good at Quidditch?"

"Hasn't anyone told you that?"

"Actually yes," he muttered. "I'd forgotten it though. He's a good flyer."

Corvus shrugged, "I guess."

Moody winked at him, "I can't make you do anything you don't want to, laddie."

He let Corvus leave finally. As he went to his next class, he grew frustrated thinking about how so many adults in his life felt him and Potter should be friends or something. Couldn't they see that wasn't going to happen?

"Black!" He was considering ignoring the person, or turning around to hit them with a Stinging Hex. Corvus just wanted to get to dinner; the day had been long enough. Draco Malfoy hurried up beside him as he privately deliberated how he was going to handle this. "Alright, Black?"

"Fine."

He looked back at Moody's closed door. "You were in there? No one should be left alone in a room with _him_. There's no telling what that madman will do. I'd be surprised if he lasts the full year here"

"He won't – not if the curse still stands," he said. "But Moody wasn't turning me into a ferret or anything there," Malfoy's eyes narrowed, "we were just talking."

"About what?"

Corvus wondered why he'd given Malfoy any details about what he was doing in Moody's office. He didn't normally share details about his life with the younger Slytherin. "About Ascanius," he replied. There was no harm in telling him.

Malfoy seemed taken aback to have this shared with him too. It wasn't like they were having a heart-to-heart by any means, but it went beyond the shallow exchanges they usually had. "You know, the _Daily Prophet _contacted my father about his death," he explained, not in his usual boasting fashion, "They wanted a quote."

"He didn't want to give it?" Lucius Malfoy was always allowing himself to be quoted in _Daily Prophet._

Malfoy shook his head, "My mother didn't want him to. She never liked your uncle and she doesn't want our name near his in the papers."

They didn't speak about Ascanius or his obituary for the rest of the way to the Great Hall. Instead Corvus listened as his younger cousin shared his predictions on what the First Task was going to be. They'd later find out that none of his theories, though creative, were correct.

**X  
X**

On Tuesday, the atmosphere in the school was one of great tension and excitement. The Salesmen had over fifty bets on who was going to win the first task and whether Potter was going to die. Lessons were to stop at midday, giving all the students time to get to wherever the first task was going to take place.

"Now, you'll be directing everyone past here," explained Professor McGonagall as she led the prefects around the edge of the Forbidden Forest. There was a clump of trees and behind it a tent was erected, its entrance facing them.

"Are the champions in there?" asked Mary Ford, craning her neck to see past the entrance. Corvus had seen Potter and Diggory leave for the grounds at lunch; their Heads of House picked both of them up.

"Yes… they are getting ready for their first task," she said, trying to control the quiver in her voice. She led them past the tent along a pathway. They were approaching a tall stonewall with an archway leading inside. "Students and guests will enter through this door. There will be four doorways, two on either side, leading to the seats. Make sure foot traffic is kept to a minimum, and everyone must keep their voices _down_ – I can not stress that enough."

"Why do we need to keep our voices down, Professor?" asked Gillian Curtis. McGonagall gave him a stern look and he went quiet.

"I bet it has something to do with what they've got set up for the first task," Mary whispered to Brazda and Corvus after McGonagall split them up and sent them to their posts. Corvus, Brazda and the Hufflepuff prefects were set up at the stonewall archway.

"Cedric was looking _really_ pale this morning," said Stephan Moore, eying the stadium excitedly. "And he usually always keeps his cool."

"Potter must be soiling himself if Diggory's lost his cool," remarked Corvus.

**X  
X**

When she attended Hogwarts, she was a bit of a terror. She had an attitude the size of Jupiter and a sharp tongue that left many scarred. Not to mention she had a knack for magic and she loved to duel. More specifically she loved humiliating people in front of other people. By the end of her third year she was legitimately feared.

Pretty much, Hogwarts was her playground.

_Until stupid Voldemort ruined it_, Leandra thought grimly. She was watching as the students filed the seats. They were all buzzing with excitement. The low rumbling of the dragons beneath the stands could be heard, probably felt too.

Leandra was sitting behind the Tournament's judges on raised seats across from where the champions would emerge from their white tent. Since this fell under 'official business' she had to wear her ceremonial black, red and violet robes. She felt like she was buried beneath massive amounts of silk, expensive silk, but a lot of it.

"Cheater, cheater, pumpkin eater!"

Leandra's hear leapt. A very small, young girl sang the rhyme a few rows to the side of her. The Madam Crafter felt her stomach turn.

Those were the first words she said to Regulus to catch his attention. She'd caught him cheating on a Transfiguration final and in exchange for keeping quiet about it; he had to be her date to Horace Slughorn's end of the year party. It worked and to this day, it's been the most brilliant scheme she's ever pulled off.

"It's nice to be back," said Penelope, catching the small smile on Leandra's face. She sat on her side. "Is this the first time you've been back to Hogwarts since you graduated?"

"I never graduated," she told her, still watching the little girl. She was teasing a boy. "But yes, this is my first visit since I left." _If you don't count the night I was here last spring_, she added privately. That was when she helped rescue Sirius.

"Me too," she sighed, "There's so many familiar faces, it's kind of weird. I never thought I'd be back so soon."

"That's why you never say never, you just end up looking like an arse," smirked Leandra. They continued watching the next generation of students until Leandra noticed Corvus's friends taking their seats.

"I know this might not be the time, or place," started Penelope nervously, "The _Daily Prophet_ would like a sit-down interview with you about… well, you know…"

She didn't want to do it. But she was the Madame Crafter and that made her rethink the importance of her decision. Would it appear weak if she avoided an interview? An interview would give the Tower publicity. "Tell them that once they've figured out what killed him, I'll consider it."

"You know Rita Skeeter is here covering the Tournament…"

"Don't worry, Penelope, I enjoy telling that woman 'no'," she chuckled. "Now, could you fetch my son and tell him we've saved him a seat, please?"

"Of course," said Penelope, getting up at once and in a flash she was gone.

When she woke up that morning, Leandra was very nervous about coming to Hogwarts again. She figured it would only conjure up sad memories. Memories in general made her feel glum. But it was nice to be back.

_Because Hogwarts was the place I shared with Regulus, and him alone. Ascanius could only scare me outside of Hogwarts. _

Her eyes scanned the crowds, and she was surprised to find Mad-Eye, abruptly breaking off her reminisces. He'd certainly picked her out already. Both his magical eye and his normal eye were on her. His expression was strange. He was frowning and there was meanness in his stare.

Assuming she'd just caught him while he was thinking about something, she waved at him. This snapped him out of it. His magical eye spun wildly and his face twisted into a mangled smile. He nodded.

"Mum."

Leandra turned to see Penelope returning with Corvus. She patted the red velvet cushioned seat next to her. For a moment she thought about giving him a kiss on the cheek, but decided against it. His friends and the entire school were in sight.

"We really need to work on your correspondence," she grinned. "I was positive you'd reply to my last letter, it's not like that sort of news gets delivered regularly."

"Sorry," he said, and he looked guilty about it. "It's been a busy week… busy weeks actually. When did you get in?"

"I came into Hogsmeade last night, and Ludo told me what the first task was going to be."

"They told you?"

She nodded, "But I only got to see the grounds this morning. All of this was thrown together like an hour before sunrise," she waved her hand dismissively. "Just love how the Ministry considers how _difficult_ crafting is."

"So inconsiderate," agreed Penelope at once.

"But you got it done," he replied, "Not that bad, a little chunky in some areas."

"Thank you – Penelope?"

"Yes, Madam?"

"I think I might've left a folder down in the supply shed, it would be a blue folder with a large black X on the front of it… could you check for me?"

Of course she would. Penelope was gone in a split second again, eagerly racing to do Leandra's bidding. She felt a little bad, because there was no blue folder. She just needed an excuse to get rid of Penelope for a minute.

"So what's Harry's game plan?"

His grey eyes were cast downwards, "Don't know…"

"Right, I suppose with dragons you'll never know which direction the wind will blow… or what direction the _fire _will blow –"

"Dragons?"

"Harry doesn't know? I thought – Sirius told me he knew – Did Harry not tell you?"

"No!" he answered like it was obvious. "Why would he tell me?"

She frowned at him, "So you could help him."

"Oh…"

She glared at him now. "You didn't help Harry prepare for his first task?"

"He didn't ask for it," he snapped back, crossing his arms moodily. She'd gotten used to this stance since the summer in Costa Rica.

"I figured you'd offer to help – you _know_ what he's going up against, beyond this tournament."

"Whatever, I don't know how to fight _dragons_."

"You could've helped him come up with an idea," she told him. "Two heads are better than one."

"He's got Granger."

"Three are better than two."

"It's too late now," he slumped further in his chair. She felt the urge to knock some sense in him. When did her son become so moody and petty? She really thought that given the recent turn of events, Corvus would put aside his issues with Sirius and work with Harry.

"This is bigger than you, Corvy," she said. "Things might be the worse they've ever been since the war, not a lot of people know it yet. And as one of the few who do, you should be a little less selfish and do what you can to help prevent –"

"Okay, okay," he said hurriedly, looking over at Penelope as she climbed up to their raised platform.

"I'm sorry, Miss Leandra, I couldn't find it –"

"That's alright, you tried and I appreciate that," she rewarded her apprentice with a fake smile. Her squabble with Corvus left a bad taste in her mouth.

**X  
X**

If he'd known it was dragons before, he might've offered Potter his help. But Corvus didn't even take Care of Magical Creatures, so what help would he be really? Sure he might've been able to teach Potter how to transfigure a pebble into a panther or a flock of angry birds to distract the beast. That would've been impossible to teach in such a short amount of time though…

Perhaps Corvus could've taught him to use a Stinging Hex to the dragons eyes, he'd read somewhere once that a dragon's eyes were the most vulnerable part of a dragon's physique…

_If he dies, she's going to blame me_, he realized as Ludo Bagman announced the first task. At least Potter didn't have to _kill_ a dragon, he just needed to get past one and steal its egg…

The crowd roared as Diggory entered the enclosure to face his dragon. Penelope provided detail on what breed the dragons were. Diggory's dragon was a Swedish Short-Snout, it was a silvery blue with long pointed horns. The Hufflepuff prefect cleverly Transfigured a rock on the ground into a Labrador for the dragon to chase instead of him. Corvus and the rest of the crowd held their breath as the tricked worked, but Diggory's hands were inches away from the golden egg before the dragon decided it would rather eat him than the dog. The silvery blue beast breathed fire at him as he scooped up the egg and rolled away.

Second up was Fleur Delacour used an interesting method against her Common Welsh Green dragon. She used some spell to put the beast into a trance. It half-worked like Diggory's trick had done. The dragon got sleepy but then it snorted, and a great flame shot out, catching her skirt on fire. She put it out with water from her wand.

Third was Krum and he was up against a red dragon with an odd fringe of fine gold spikes around its face. It was a Chinese Fireball apparently. He used a Conjunctivitus curse on its eyes. But the Chinese Fireball went trampling around in agony and squashed half of the real eggs.

Finally Potter appeared across from where Corvus and his mother sat with the judges. His mother grabbed his hand, squeezing so hard he was sure his fingers had lost all blood circulation. Potter was pinned against an Hungarian Horntail, a gigantic beast that was more lizard-like than the others.

"_Accio Firebolt!"_

Corvus felt like he was going to be sick. The crowd continued making noise for Potter, some of it unfriendly. Corvus hoped his mother didn't note that a lot of the unfriendly whistling and hissing came from the Slytherins in the crowd.

Then Corvus heard it, Potter's broom was speeding through the air and hurtled towards him around the edge of the woods. It soared into the enclosure and stopped midair beside him, waiting for him to mount. He swung his leg over the broom and kicked off from the ground.

Potter soared upwards and then dove back down. The Horntail's head followed him. Potter pulled out of the dive just in time as the Horntail sent a jet of fire at him. Corvus was in awe and cheered with the crowd. Potter began to circle the air, going higher. The Horntail was still following his progress.

Potter plummeted just as the Horntail opened its mouth. Potter missed the flames again, but its tail came whipping up to meet him instead. He tried to swerve to the left, but one of the long spikes on its tail grazed his shoulder, ripping his robes.

Screams ignited in the crowd, Penelope let out a bone-chilling shriek beside Corvus.

The dragon wasn't leaving her eggs. Potter kept doing his best to distract her and lure her away from the nest. It took a lot of taunting, but finally she geared up to take flight. She reared and spread her great black leathery wings at last, as wide as those of a small airplane. That was when Potter dove again.

Before the dragon know what he'd done or where he'd disappeared to, he was speeding towards the ground as fast as he could. He was a blurry bolt shot down from the sky. He was going towards the eggs now unprotected by her clawed front legs.

"Look at that!" Bagman was yelling. "Will you take a look at that! Our youngest champion is quickest to get his egg! Well, this is going to shorten the odds on Mr. Potter."

**X  
X**

"Hurry up, Corvus, he might leave before we get to speak with him."

"Oh Merlin forbid…"

"What was that?"

"Nothing." His mother stared at him. "It was nothing! Look there's Granger and Weasley. Logic dictates that he's nearby," he gestured to them standing outside of the tent.

"Hermione! Ron!" He cringed at hearing his mother greet them by their first names.

"Hello, Miss Black," greeted Granger, beaming. Corvus could tell that she was still coming down from all the excitement of watching Potter dodge death. There were fingernail marks on her face where she had been clutching it in fear. Weasley was looking pale.

"It's good to see you again, where's Harry? He was amazing, we want to congratulate him."

"He's been called back in there," explained Weasley, "Bagman is telling the Champions something."

Corvus had his hands buried deep in his pockets. He kept his head slightly bowed, hoping his hair covered his face enough as the line of passing student went by.

"I read about… er – your brother," said Granger. Corvus looked up at his mother, her smile flickered.

"Oh, yes, him… I'd skip the obituaries, dear, you're only fourteen," she tried joking. "You don't need to start worrying about them."

Granger's cheeks went pink.

"_Madame Crafter!"_

Corvus's heart leapt. His friends had arrived with Breises and a few of the other Durmstrang students. Breises's eyes were wide open, to the point that Corvus felt concerned they might pop out. Her sights were on Leandra.

"If you're about to inquire about apprenticeships at the Tower, send an Owl," started Corvus's mother, set to turn her attention back to Granger and Weasley.

"No, no!" gushed Breises, hurrying forward like she wanted to grab hold of Leandra's sleeve. But she restrained herself. "_Es bin ich, Breises." _

His mother's face changed in a flash. She wasn't as ecstatic as Breises was, but she was certainly surprised.

"Yeah, mum, this is Breises," said Corvus, a tad late with the introductions. "I told you she was here, for the tournament."

Her dark almond shaped eyes scanned her face, "Oh my god it _is _you… You've _grown_, a lot."

Breises apparently couldn't restrain herself anymore; she leapt onto Leandra, giving her a tight embrace.

"Guess we'll see you lot later, then," mumbled Louis. He awkwardly stepped back along with Anwar, Warrington, Adrian Pucey, Daphne and the other Durmstrang students. Corvus hoped this exchange was interesting enough to have distracted them from seeing Granger and Weasley. Max remained however.

"I want to say, every day I think of you and how to become like you on day," said Breises. She let go of Leandra eventually. "If I had been older and understood what my father was doing, I would have stood up for you in Berlin and with you against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named!"

"Oh… well thank you," replied Leandra, uneasily. "Must say, considering how I left things with your father, I'm surprised he raised you to have a good opinion about me."

"My father _never_ speaks of our family, or not the family that matters. I believe it is because he is too ashamed of his cowardice."

Leandra looked to Granger and Weasley, then back at Breises and the others. Corvus could see that his mother was stuck between choosing a family reunion and speaking to Potter.

"Give Harry our regards, please," she said to the Gryffindors. Leandra allowed Breises to walk with her around the edge of the Forest.

"Ascanius's death is good news, I tell Corvus – it makes me happy to know he died alone and sick. That is justice," she nodded. "But I wonder, shouldn't his death been announced? I heard my Headmaster speak with a Hogwarts Professor about his death, clearly it is important among faculty and officials."

"Anything related to him brings up bad memories and he was just rotting in a cell at the end – an announcement would be pointless," said Leandra as they rounded a clump of trees. A witch leapt out from behind them.

It was Rita Skeeter. She was wearing acid-green robes and the Quick-Quotes Quill in her hand blended perfectly against them. "Miss Leandra Black," she said, beaming at her. "You've come a long way from the woman I interviewed over fifteen years ago. Do you think you've come full circle with Ascanius's death? Care to give your fans a small update on where you are today?"

Corvus never saw his mother give someone such a nasty look. She didn't answer Skeeter's question, instead she walked on and Breises trotted to get back along side her. "A very rude woman, Viktor Krum, Durmstrang's Champion _and _my ex-boyfriend –"

Corvus's jaw dropped and he stared over at Max. He though remained unperturbed. "Did you know that?" hissed Corvus. Max nodded.

" – said she was very rude to the Champions, except for Harry Potter –"

"Durmstrang," interrupted Leandra, "How do you like going there?"

"It provides a very good education. It is much more strict than I think Hogwarts is."

"What do you think about Muggles attending Hogwarts?" she asked briskly. Corvus arched an eyebrow and tried not to look at Max.

Breises straightened up, "Very progressive and I think beneficial to the students. More students means more competition – and if you become the best out of more people, it means you are much more better. That is why, at times, I feel my school is it's own enemy. We are limited."

Corvus blinked. Not that Breises ever spoke to him about Muggles before, but Corvus had figured she'd fall into the same category as Malfoy about them. "I'm glad to hear that," smiled Leandra. "Maybe there is hope for what's left of the Stirling family."

"Our family will be great again," promised Breises.

Corvus's mother gave her an amused smile and Breises looked elated as Hogwarts castle came into view. "I've got to get back to Hogsmeade," she told them, stopping. "Corvus, quick word."

He nodded at his friends before they turned away to return without him. Obviously his mother was going to nag him about Potter, he wasn't stupid enough to even hope she'd forget. He stood waiting, his hands dug into his pockets and his shoulders slightly slouched.

"I'll see you over the Christmas break," she told him, "And if you haven't spoken to Harry about helping him, I'll offer it to him myself. You decide which one is more humiliating."

"Yeah, yeah."

"You didn't happen to see Moody, did you?" she glanced around. "He practically disappeared after the task was finished, didn't get a chance to set up a meeting."

He shrugged, "I wasn't looking for him."

"That's alright, I'll send him an owl," she sighed. There was a pause; Corvus expected that she'd wrap up this conversation by now. He wanted to get back to his friends and discuss how much money they'll have to collect from the bids. But his mother was staring at him, smiling weirdly.

"What?"

"Nothing, just – just you look a lot like your father right now," she grinned, "Especially with that horrible posture."

He stood up straighter.


	20. Dance Fever

**Dance Fever**

The start of December brought wind and sleet to Hogwarts. The Salesmen were swamped with orders now that they were catering to the Durmstrang and Beauxbatons students. Tentettes were more popular because of the cool weather. Classes were becoming more demanding. Corvus actually spent his free time studying.

"Bloody hell, I can't read my own handwriting," he complained on his way to breakfast. He had his Ancient Runes notes in his hands.

"That's because that's the hieroglyph," replied Anwar. They were both making a last ditch effort to cram before their quiz. The other Salesmen were already at breakfast, none of them were in Ancient Runes.

"A relief," muttered Corvus. His eyes were glued to his notes as he entered the Entrance Hall from the dungeons, he didn't notice a small group of first years, nor did he notice they were quickly escalating into a fight. Corvus would've bypassed this ruckus completely if it weren't for the fact that one of them viciously shoved the other right into him. He cursed loudly as his notes scattered across the floor.

The first years were still going at it, ignoring the grace mistake they'd collectively made by upsetting Corvus Black. To make sure they learned their lesson, he took out his wand and broke them up by throwing a Stinging Hex at both of them. That got their attention.

"You stupid pieces of dung, what the hell is wrong with you?" he snapped at them, speaking over their painful wails. "You don't start a fight in the middle of the damn Entrance Hall."

"I don't think you're in any position to be lecturing others on the protocol of things, Black," the silky voice of Snape answered from behind him. Corvus felt his blood turn cold and he slowly turned back to see the Potion Master only a few steps away.

"They were fighting, sir," said Anwar. Corvus appreciated the attempt, but he knew there was no hope. Snape's black eyes said it all. Corvus was going to suffer.

"Jinxing fellow students is prohibited," he explained slowly, lazily waving his wand to sooth the first-years' faces. "Did you even skim the rule book before you put that badge on, Black?" He actually hadn't, but he opted not to mention that. "You must be the most delinquent prefect our fine school has ever had. As if your family hasn't made history enough."

Corvus bit his bottom lip. If only Snape was a student, he'd have nothing protecting him from Corvus's wrath.

"Thirty points from Slytherin and detention," he told him. "Clean this mess up."

Corvus waited until Snape went into the Great Hall before he voiced a few select words about the Potion Master. He noticed the first-years were still there.

"You better pray I never catch any of you alone."

One of them whimpered.

"He really hates you, more than last year," remarked Anwar as they walked down the Slytherin table towards their friends. "Before he stopped himself from taking points off, nothing's off limits now."

"I've noticed, thanks."

"Whatever you did, you should think about apologizing," he said. This didn't sound like Anwar, he'd also thought his friend didn't know the meaning of the word.

"You're mad."

"I'm thinking about our security," he told him. "He could start making things difficult for us."

"Trust me, torturing me is sufficient."

"How do you know that for sure?"

"I just do." He really wasn't appreciating this, especially so early in the morning. There was no way he could explain Snape's hatred for him steamed from Corvus's relation to Sirius Black.

As they took their seats the post came flooding in from above. Corvus didn't receive any mail. He was pleased because he thought he'd be able to get through breakfast studying without further interruptions.

"_Margaux?_"

Corvus looked up from his notes. Louis sat across from him with a bewildered look, holding a parcel wrapped in royal blue with a golden card attached.

"She never writes," said Louis, turning the parcel over carefully.

"It's not your birthday, is it?" asked Max. He shook his head.

Daphne frowned, "Well, what does the card say?"

"Nothing, just _Merci_ and her signature."

"Just open it then," she told him.

Louis looked weary. Corvus steadily became more apprehensive as he started to carefully unwrap the parcel. Inside was an ivory white box. Louis lifted the lid slowly and Corvus watched his face twist even further with confusion. He pulled out a small figurine of a blue elephant with golden wings.

"_What the hell is this?_"

They were all wondering the same thing when the figurine suddenly leapt from Louis's hand. It had come alive!

The tiny elephant let out a loud call from its trunk, a call that rang out in the Great Hall. Plates nearby actually shuttered. Then the elephant took flight, it's trunk growing in size until it was several yards long. Everyone watched memorized as it fluttered around Louis at a dizzying speed.

Then it became apparent what the elephant was sent to do. Louis was picked up by the back of his collar and one by one the elephant grabbed his arms, pulling them straight out to the sides. With its elongated trunk, it measured the length of his arms, torso and then embarrassingly his legs and waist.

Louis went bright red, and every time he tried to get away from the elephant he failed. The elephant was just too fast, even for Slytherin's star Chaser. So he resigned to just cursing out loud as everyone snickered around him.

When the elephant was done it gave a triumphant shout. Corvus figured he'd dive right back into his ivory white box, but he turned his beady eyes to his next victim, Max.

Max looked just as horrified, if not more, as Louis did. After him, the elephant surprised Corvus again by tackling Daphne. He watched her turned bright red too, especially when it took her bust size. Everyone in the Great Hall was watching now, whispering wildly amongst the snickering.

Anwar tried hopelessly to fight the elephant off, but it was no use. When it came to Corvus's turn he surrendered. He'd been embarrassed enough for one day. Besides it went a lot faster that way.

After the elephant took all their measurements, it gave its final shout and zoomed through the air, out of the Great Hall's window reserved for mail. Students everywhere bust into laughter and applauded the morning show.

"I hate my sister, _hate_ her," snapped Louis, grinding his teeth. "Just because she likes being a freak show… when my mum hears about this…"

"You sound like Malfoy," muttered Daphne, trying very hard to downplay her own humiliation.

"I feel violated," stated Max. There was a moment of silence, but it was short lived before they burst into laughter.

"Excuse me, are you friends with MV, Margaux Vaisey?" a voice asked.

It was Fleur Delacour, her large, deep blue eyes eagerly moving from one Salesman face to the other. Corvus felt a nervous jolt in the pit of his stomach when Fleur looked at him. She gave him the smallest of smiles. She recognized him. Corvus felt his cheeks go hot.

"I'm not friends with her," Louis practically grumbled as he swept the remains of the parcel off the table. "She's my sister."

Fleur and her friends seemed to perk up instantly. "Ze fashion designer?"

Louis appeared unfazed, "Yeah, so?"

Fleur asked something in rapid French.

"British-French actually," drawled Louis in English.

She asked him something again in French, Corvus only picked up half of it. It was about him not attending Beauxbatons.

"My parents went there, but they moved to England, didn't they? So why would I go there?"

"Ve are vans, great vans of your sistur's," Fleur's friend gushed beside her. She was a very cute girl with long, brown hair. Louis's usual mischievous spark lit up finally.

"She'll love hearing that." His cool blue eyes looked the girl up and down. "I'm Louis by the way."

"Rebecca," she blushed.

"Are you going to invite MV to any of ze tasks?" asked Fleur.

Louis's smile died the instant he laid eyes on Fleur again. He became sardonic, "_Sure_, because she's really into this kind of stuff."

"Why wouldn't she be? Zis is a very important event," she replied sharply. Before any of them could continue, the bell rang for class. Fleur stiffly bid them farewell before leading her group of friends out of the Great Hall.

Louis called after them, grinning dashingly, "Nice meeting you Rebecca!"

"Rebecca, who cares about her," said Corvus once he gathered his senses back. "What about Fleur?"

"What about her?"

Max chuckled, but stopped abruptly, "Are you serious?"

Louis frowned at them.

"Well, Fleur's – well – she's…"

"She's gorgeous and fit," finished Daphne briskly.

"Yes, thank you," nodded Corvus. She rolled her eyes.

"She's actually part Veela," chimed in Brazda. She'd been watching the exchange too and looked interested to say the least. "So she's extra gorgeous and fit."

"Is she?" Louis made an unappealing face. "I honestly don't see it."

"Are you blind?" asked Daphne.

He shrugged, "My mum's said once that people with Veela blood in them usually don't find other Veela-blooded people attractive. Maybe that's why, but really I think it's because she's got stringy hair and bug eyes. Plus she annoying, right?"

Brazda laughed, "There _is_ hope for the world."

**X  
X**

"Black, Snape wants you in his office after this." Gilligan Curtis was more than happy to deliver the news while they waited for their Prefect meeting to commence after dinner in the Prefect bathroom. Apparently they were going to discuss preparations for the next task.

"Thanks," he muttered darkly. He was sitting on the floor, sketching in his book. He was finishing a drawing of the Durmstrang ship he'd started a few days ago.

"What did you do this time? And how many more times do you need to do it before he takes your badge away?"

"You know what you can do with _your_ badge–"

"Alright! Everyone's here, marvelous," called Holly Spencer. "First, thank you, everyone, for your hard work last week at the First Task."

Her and Eric Green started a round of applause. "We've got to keep up this standard, and not only at maintaining order at the Tasks themselves," went on Eric. "As all of you probably know from the Triwizard Tournament's history, there'll be a Yule Ball during the winter holiday."

Mary Ford whispered something to Vicky Frobisher and Kumiko Okada. They giggled. A few of the boys shifted uncomfortably.

"There's going to be an unusual amount of students staying at school this winter, plus our guests from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons," said Holly, grinning like a fool. "It's extra important to make them feel extra welcome. So brighter smiles, please, and remember – if you don't have anything nice to say…" She gave Corvus a look.

"On top of that, we've got to provide some activities for the student body, to keep spirits up," explained Eric. "And some of us have already come up with ideas about that. Corvus? Mara?"

Corvus blinked while Brazda strutted forward with a small notebook. She looked extremely pleased with herself. "Thank you, Eric, Holly," she practically bowed to each of them. "As we all know, the Yule Ball is first and foremost a dance. It's going to be a wonderful night, an opportunity for everyone to have fun and let loose – appropriately."

The girls giggled again.

"But what hit me immediately when I heard about the Yule Ball, was… in order to have fun at a dance, you need to know _how_ to dance!"

Corvus felt tense.

"Therefore, I – I mean _we, _Corvus and I of course – want to host a night for dance lessons."

The meeting was called to an end shortly after Brazda revealed her grand plan. Most of the girls signed up to help organize the night. One or two boys shyly volunteered too. Corvus was fuming the entire time and had to wait until he was alone with Brazda to unleash his anger at her.

"I'm not okay with this Brazda," he spat after her as they left for the dungeons

"Not a lot of people are okay with you as a prefect."

"Why do you need _me_ to help with this – this rubbish?"

"Because, no one would think you'd ever do something like this."

"Exactly."

"And people will think that I made you do it."

"Which you _are_."

"And people will see what power I have," she chirped.

"You're pathetic." Curtis's sneering face was still fresh in Corvus's mind. That Gryffindor relished hearing that Corvus was co-hosting the dance lessons.

"I really don't know why you're so upset," she laughed, pausing as they got to the Entrance Hall. "You'll survive this. You know why? Because no matter what you do, you're still Corvus Black, the heir to the Stirling Tower."

Corvus gawked at her. It made perfect sense suddenly, why she was doing this to him. She was jealous.

"Don't forget your meeting with Snape," she grinned.

Only once has Corvus hexed a girl, and that was Morag MacDougal after she'd insulted his mother. That wasn't his proudest moment, but at that moment, watching Brazda walk away, he really wanted to hex her eyes out.

**X  
X**

Corvus stared at Snape's closed office door for a few seconds before knocking. He had to get it over with. "Enter."

The shadowy room was lined with shelves bearing hundreds of glass jars in which slimy bits of animals and plants were suspended in variously colored potions. In one corner stood a cupboard full of ingredients. Corvus knew that cupboard rather well, him and Max used to steal from it when the Salesmen were just starting off. He frowned. The cupboard was open and it looked like Snape was in the process of reorganizing it.

"I daresay, Black, you certainly took your time getting here," Snape sneered at him from his desk.

"I was at a Prefect meeting, sir."

"You're so burdened by pesky obligations, aren't you?"

"It's all a matter of time-management, sir."

Snape's black eyes narrowed. Then, very slowly, he pulled something out of his desk. It was a toothbrush. "I'll be brief, then. My first-year class is particular inept and their classroom needs to be cleaned. That'll be your detention, Black, fitting considering you were caught terrorizing a group of first-years." Corvus kept looking at the toothbrush. "All you'll be using when you clean up their mess is this. And no magic."

**X**  
**X**

Every commons room had a sign up sheet for the dance lessons. Every sheet had been filled up within an hour of their posting. The morning after they were posted, Corvus grimaced at the sheet in the Slytherin dungeon.

"She's a first year, isn't she?" he pointed out a name. "Only fourth years and above are allowed to attend."

"But you can invite a younger student as your date," replied Max, looking over the list too.

Daphne smirked, "Ew, but a _first year_ Max?"

"You all signed up?" Corvus gave his friends an incredulous look. "What the hell?"

"And miss you prancing about? Please," sneered Louis.

"We were the first to sign up," said Anwar.

"Max?"

"He needs it most, don't he? Doesn't want to make a fool out of himself with Cho after _years _of waiting," he nudged Max. He blushed.

"Have you asked her already?" said Daphne, smiling.

"Huh... I-I haven't, no... We need to get to class," he mumbled as he left first.

It was hard not to think of those cursed dance lessons throughout the day. Everyone was talking about them. Even Professor Flitwick mentioned how 'clever' the idea was to Brazda. The compliments made her extremely pleased, she didn't even act like it was a joint effort with Corvus anymore.

"Miss. Brazda and Mr. Black - a word, if you please."

Professor McGonagall called over the noise of their class emptying out at the sound of the bell. Corvus did a quick mental check-list about what this could possibly be about as he proceeded to the teacher's desk.

"What'd you do?" hissed Brazda. He shrugged. Honestly, he had no idea what this could be about. He'd been on very good behavior lately and he'd been the first in class to successfully turn his chair into a Shetland Pony when all McGonagall asked for was an English Bulldog.

McGonagall waited until the rest of the class had gone, and then said, "I have a favor to ask of you, in regards to Potter."

Corvus cocked an eyebrow, was she friends with his mother?

"Earlier I spoke to him about the Yule Ball," she explained. "And when I mentioned the fact that, traditionally, the champions and their partners open the ball, his response was... less than encouraging."

"Oh," said Brazda. Corvus still didn't understand.

"He said _I don't dance_," she forced herself to reveal. "He is a representative of our school, Black, and a member of my house no less. It's important he comes to this ball prepared to live up to both those positions."

"I understand completely."

"I don't," interrupted Corvus.

"You're in charge of the dance lessons, aren't you?" she said irritably.

"Of course we'll see to it that Potter attends, Professor McGonagall," assured Brazda while Corvus rolled his eyes.

"I think you ought to speak to him," said Brazda immediately once they'd left the classroom. "He'll respond better if another boy talks to him about this."

"Fine whatever," he sighed. He had to speak to Potter anyway. Best to kill two dumb birds with one stone. "I'll do it after Defense class."

There was a definite sober mood when Corvus entered Moody's classroom. The day had finally come. Moody was going to teach them about Ascanius Stirling. Like with every Dark wizard they studied, Moody brought in pictures to hang around the classroom. Everyone was silent.

Corvus took a seat in the back. He wanted to study each and every picture, but not in front of his classmates. At the very front of the classroom was a portrait of the Stirling family. He couldn't see it clearly, but he thought he could see his mother in the front row of the portrait. She was just a child.

"Ascanius Stirling - A Death Eater who turned into a bigger sensation than any other of his contemporaries," he grumbled. Corvus's eyes remained on the portrait as Moody stalked to the front. "Single-handedly taking down one of England's most powerful pureblood families will do that, it turns out."

He wrote on the board, _SITIS EXCESSUM. _

"But this is what makes Stirling an important case to examine. _Sitius Excessum _ – the curse he invented to kill his victims. The killing curse wasn't enough for him. When successfully cast Stirling's curse will evaporate all the moisture in the victim's body. Victim dies by dehydration in less than a minute."

As Moody went on to educate them about Ascanius Stirling, Corvus didn't once pick up his quill to take notes. He felt like he was in a trance. When the Dementors came to Hogwarts last year, being near them caused Corvus to almost remember the day Ascanius nearly killed him and his mother. He felt extremely cold, there were dark shapes rushing around him and there were screams… he heard his three-year-old-self crying…

"_Sister, move away from your son. Let him live, he doesn't have to die today." _

Ascanius died in prison. He didn't even end up in Azkaban. His final justice was falling ill and dying. Corvus was staring at the portrait of what used to be his family. It didn't add up.

"I wonder what's for dinner," said Louis, innocently as they packed up at the end of class. He was trying not to look at Corvus or acknowledge Ascanius's mug shot hanging on the wall to his left.

"I'll see you guys later," Corvus told them, still seated. "I need to ask Moody something."

His friends carefully looked at each other. They didn't know if they were supposed to say or do something. Luckily, Max took charge and said, "Alright."

When everyone left, he got up to walk along the walls, studying the pictures. He paused at a picture of a half destroyed pub. Caution tap was put around a corpse.

"Notus Stirling, first recorded victim to have died by Stirling's curse," Moody growled. "Happened in a pub in Manchester. Seven Muggles were injured, two killed. Notus Stirling was acting as an informant for our side, Ascanius caught him in the act that night."

"It doesn't even look human." The corpse of Notus Stirling looked hallow, dried and ashen. Like a shriveled mummy unwrapped. That was what he'd reduced all his victims to.

"Only one person has survived his curse, and that was by luck."

He'd never heard about this. "Who?"

"Your other uncle, Sirius Black," he told him. "He was one of the agents Notus was meeting that night. His partner saved his life."

"So it's not for sure you'll die by this curse."

"There are ways around death," nodded Moody. That was a rather hopeful thing to say coming from Moody. Corvus was surprised he'd never heard about Sirius surviving an attack from Ascanius. Then again, his mother never spoke about what happened during those years. He understood why.

_What did my father do? Where was he during all this? _

His stomach dropped. This was too much to think about. "I've got to go, sir," he told Moody, stepping away from the picture of Notus's corpse. "Thank you."

Moody didn't try to say anything else to him. He let Corvus leave without another word. His mind was still wrapping itself around Ascanius's crimes against humanity when he was walking down the staircase to the second floor when Viviane Chase ran into him.

"Watch where you're going, Chase!" he called after her testily. The extremely tall Ravenclaw fifth year dashed up the stairs.

"She was quite good-looking," he heard Weasley. Potter and him were a few feet ahead of him.

Potter seemed very unnerved by something. "She was a foot taller than me. Imagine what I'd look like trying to dance with her."

"I'd have paid good money to see that," leered Corvus, closing up his book. At noticing him, both Gryffindors groaned.

"What do you want?"

"It's nothing to do with you, ginger," he replied sharply. "Really, when is it _ever_ about you?"

His ears went bright pink.

"What do you want, Black?" asked Potter.

"I need to speak to you, Potter, alone," he said. He checked a nearby classroom to see if it was free. Luckily it was. He gestured for Potter to follow him in.

"What do you need to speak to me about?"

"Can you dance Potter?"

Potter was shocked, he started stuttering, "I – I don't … don't dance."

"That's what I've heard," he drawled. "There's going to be dance lessons, McGonagall wants you to take them."

"I'm not going to take dance lessons!" he looked mortified.

"You're going to look like an idiot if you don't know how to dance."

"Why can't the other champions just do it without me?"

"Asking for special treatment, huh?"

"I didn't ask for this," he glared at him.

"Does your date at least know how to dance?"

Potter's angry glare melted away. Now he just looked bashful.

"You do have a date, don't you?"

"Do you?" he counterattacked. Corvus blinked. He'd actually forgotten all about asking someone to the dance. He didn't even know whom he'd ask.

"Of course," he lied. It was more amusing to let Potter believe he was alone without a date.

"But… they're always in groups aren't they? How're you supposed to get one on their own to ask them?"

He shrugged, "Ask if you can talk to them alone. Or make Granger go with you or that little Weasley girl. Honestly Potter it's not that difficult, just make sure she knows how to dance so you'll look half decent."

Potter didn't snap back or anything, he just stood there looking miserable. Clearly this dilemma has been weighing on him.

"Another thing," continued Corvus, "Your second Task… you're probably working on some strategy, getting ready and stuff for it…"

He frowned.

Corvus avoided eye contact like it was the plague. "And if you need help… I can do that. If you _really_ need it."

"You want to help me?"

This was a mortifying experience…

"I know about the bets you took for the last Task," he said irritably. Corvus looked at him. He couldn't believe his luck, "I don't your help, _thanks_."

**X  
X**

When Corvus entered the Great Hall, he had to walk through a group of laughing fifth year Gryffindors. Katie Bell seemed to be in the center of it. He ignored them and he noticed Louis sulking moodily at the Slytherin table. Everyone seemed purposefully quiet around him. "What's up?" asked Corvus as he took a seat.

"Shut up," snapped Louis, pulling the mashed potatoes towards him.

"Did something happen?" Corvus looked to Max for answers, who carefully looked to Louis.

"Go ahead, tell them, I don't care, she's a stupid cow anyway."

"Louis asked Katie Bell to the ball," said Max tentatively. "Just now, and.., she said no."

"Oh she thinks she's hilarious," exclaimed Louis angrily. "What a chance! To make a fool out of me in front of everyone, _ha ha_! She's so damn clever!" He continued angrily piling food on his plate. "I could do better than her, loads better, I knew that even before I asked her out. Just thought it would be a laugh, going with a Gryffindor. Whatever, she'd probably be a rubbish date. Gryffindors are a bunch of sticks in the mud, I should've stuck to my instincts."

Corvus didn't know what to say. Whispers were starting to spread through the Great Hall as people were being informed about what had happened. Louis might've been the first Vaisey in Hogwarts history to be turned down by the opposite sex...

"I don't think Katie Bell's pretty," said Daphne.

Louis turned to her, his tone a little less harsh, "Really?"

"Yeah, and... and I think she gotten fat since the summer," she told him. "She's probably going to end up going with a loser, like Longbottom or someone."

The thought brought a smile to his face, though a mean one. Louis scoffed, "Yeah, probably."

**X  
X**

Corvus stood in the Shrieking Shack across from a bear. He stared at the animal in sheer disbelief. He'd even dropped his wand by his foot. The bear stood on its hind legs and howled.

This made Corvus snap to. He swept up his wand and shouted an incantation. There was a flash of hot light. The bear was gone, replaced by Max. His eyes were alight.

"Corvus," he gasped, "We're so close! One more step or what and – and bloody hell we're nearly there!"

With a shaking hand he swept his fringe back.

"This is mad," laughed Corvus. "You didn't feel any discomfort? When you turned me into that leopard last week, my tail kinda felt knotted –"

"Mate, that was a perfect transfiguration."

Corvus nearly jumped in the air with joy. He held himself together though and instead started pacing. As he paced he twirled his wand between his fingers, silver sparks started to shot out. "I knew we'd get it, but Merlin it took _forever!_"

Max eased himself on the floor, "Reckon we won't even need to use the Goblin tunnel to get to Hogsmeade. We'll just use the damn front door! What if you turn into a bull or what, and charged at Filch?"

"How about Pretzel? He could do with some exercise," sneered Corvus. They both laughed.

"Can't imagine what animal I'll turn into," said Max after they'd calm down.

Corvus wondered the same thing, almost every week since they got back to school. _Best of All Worlds_ said there was no way of knowing what form a wizard or witch's Animagus would take. "It's going to be wicked whatever the outcome."

"Yeah…"

"I wish we didn't have that stupid Yule Ball," groaned Corvus. "It's sucking up all my free time, what with those stupid dance lessons."

"A break wouldn't hurt," he shrugged. "Do you know how to dance?"

"My mother taught me how to when I was twelve," he explained. "There was some charity event we had to go to, one of her client's thing. There was dancing so she made me take ballroom lessons. Now I have to relive that nightmare."

"… I'm going to the Yule Ball with Breises."

He stared at Max, he'd said it so fast he wasn't sure he heard him correctly. "Huh?"

"I'm going with Breises," he mumbled. "Thought I should tell you."

"Why?"

He frowned, "She's your cousin –"

"No, _why_ Breises? What about… you know, Cho –"

Max looked away, "I want to go with Breises."

"When did you ask her?" He muttered something. "What?"

"She asked me," he spoke up and looked him in the eyes again. "A few days after the First Task."

"Oh..."

They didn't speak about the Yule Ball after that. It was time to head back to Hogwarts and Corvus couldn't keep his mind off the fact that he still didn't know who he wanted to ask to the ball.

**X  
X**

The night had finally come. Brazda insisted the House tables be pushed together in the center of the Great Hall to act as a stage for chorography demonstrations. The chairs were pushed back along the walls. The house-elves had double waxed the floor for the night. Starlight from the enchanted ceiling practically glittered off the marble.

Corvus was put in charge of signing people in at the Great Hall's doors. He sat beside Mary Ford at a table. The Entrance Hall was crowded with a line of students waiting to be checked in. "Next!" called Mary as a group of obnoxious and giddy fourth year girls scuttled forward.

"P – A – T – I – L."

"Oh! Oh! My name's right there, Brown," one of the girls pointed out on Corvus's list.

He glared at her. "I'll check it off when I check it off."

Lavender Brown gulped, "Sorry."

He took his time marking her name. The girls huddled together as they set off for the hall. Their giggles echoed along with all the other chatter going on in there. "I'm here," announced Cormac McLaggen, chest puffed out.

"I thought I smelt something..."

"Good you're on time," said someone behind them. Corvus turned to find Milvina Fox standing with her hands on her hips. She was wearing a very pretty purple dress and black heels. In fact, she looked especially pretty that night.

He wondered vaguely if Louis would object to him asking Milvina to the ball. But then Milvina held her hand out to McLaggen.

"I got us a spot by the stage."

Corvus choked, "What?"

"What's the big deal, Black?" asked McLaggen snidely.

"That you're _her_ date," he told him and then looked to Milvina. "Are you serious?"

She tossed her hair back, "Of course. There are other Gryffindors to ask out to the Yule Ball, obviously." She beckoned for McLaggen to follow her into the Great Hall, which he did happily.

"That was weird," he said after them.

"It wouldn't be a school dance without some drama, huh?"

But if Milvina had hoped she could make Louis jealous that night, she was sadly mistaken. On the same day that Katie Bell rejected him, he asked Fleur's friend out, Rebecca. So he was thoroughly distracted that night.

"Un, deux, trois… Ah! Louis!" she squealed as Louis picked her up and spun her in the air. They both laughed and she collapsed into his arms when he put her down.

"He is very silly," observed Breises. Max was too busy watching his feet to make sure he didn't step on hers.

"Yeah," he agreed.

She stopped abruptly. "Max, look at me. You won't step on my feet."

"You sure?" he smirked nervously.

"Trust me," she smiled back as they eased into a waltz again.

"Who should I ask to the ball?" sighed Corvus. While everyone was paired off practicing waltzing, Corvus sat on a chair pushed against the wall. His friends danced near him, mainly to provide him camouflage from Brazda.

"You still haven't done that?" asked Louis, shocked. "Even Anwar's done that already."

Anwar's date was Veronique DePaul, Rebecca's friend. She spoke as much English as Rebecca, which wasn't much. She was as pretty as Rebecca too.

"Who's Daphne going with?"

"Someone asked her last week," said Louis, "But I don't know if she's given the poor bloke an answer yet. She's probably going to say yes. One thing for a guy to go alone, isn't it, but a girl?"

Daphne was dancing with a tall, reedy boy in her year. He was almost sure that his name was Theodore Nott. Unlike Rebecca or Breises, she wasn't allowing her partner to hold her very close.

Someone loudly cleared her throat to the side of Corvus. He looked over, his face immediately turning pale. It was Morag MacDougal.

"I don't have a partner, but I need _someone_ to dance with, don't I?" she playfully grinned at him. "And that's your job tonight, isn't it Corey?"

He wanted to gag at the name. "I'm on break."

"You're so naughty," she giggled. Breises gave her a disgusted look.

"Figures I'd find you sitting on the job," called Brazda, swooping in for the rescue. "I need your help. Come on. Morag, Gilligan Curtis is available."

She turned on her heels and glided towards the doors. Corvus hurried after her, afraid to look back at Morag's predictably outraged look at being abandoned.

"Thank you," he breathed as they past through the swaying couples.

"Are you kidding? I don't need a scene on my watch."

"Hey… who are you going to the ball with?"

"Stephan Moore," she said simply.

"I didn't know you two were close."

"We're not," she shrugged. "It's just a dance and he's a prefect so…"

"Right, makes sense."

They got to the doors. She took a deep breath, scanning the Great Hall. "If you haven't gotten a date yet, I would suggest you ask a girl who's a friend. Chances are you'll have more fun."


	21. Yule Ball

**A/N** Okay so I've rewritten this chapter and the next considerably, because of several reasons...

a.) I need to pick up the Metis storyline again!

b.) I've been thinking about the reviews concerning Leandra's switch from Regulus to Sirius. I've decided to ease up on writing scenes where Sirius and Lee are all lovey-dovey. It's more complicated than that, I've just been incredibly lazy at writing recently. It's not a good excuse, I know, but please bare with me :( So I've taken out the scene with Lee and Sirius celebrating xmas together. Instead I have Leandra confronting an important memory from her past, one that could relate to Voldemort's return.

c.) I wanted to create some of the lazy writing in the previous drafts... there were tons in the chapter after this.

* * *

**Yule Ball**

Christmas season in general was a busy time of the year for the Salesmen. This year it was particularly so. Owls came in swarms with requests for magical cosmetic supplies like Pixie Dust and Sleekeasy's Hair Potion. There were plenty of Love Potion orders as well, this gave Corvus some comfort because he imagined those requesting it were still searching for a date too.

"I don't know, Corv. Slipping your date a drop of Love Potion would turn up the heat, wouldn't it?" smirked Louis. Because they were dealing with an overload of requests, three people were assigned every other night to sort orders. The night before the last day of classes, it was Corvus, Louis and Daphne.

"That's horrible," stated Daphne. She glared at him over the new request sheets. They sat in the dank living room of the Shrieking Shack. The boys were busy packing orders for delivery.

Louis shrugged it off. "Let's be serious though, mate. You need to pick a girl."

"Pick a girl?" Corvus repeated, laughing. "You make it sound like there's loads of options here."

"There are!" exclaimed Louis, forgetting for a moment about the parcel of Sleekeasy's Hair Potion he was wrapping. "You and I are the best looking lads in our year, easy. Am I right, Daph?"

Daphne bowed her head further down as if she wanted to curl up into the sheets of papers in her hands.

"And in Hogwarts' top twenty," he added.

Corvus didn't know what to say. He was torn between laughing and choking on the praise. Was this true? Did girls like him almost as much as they liked Louis? But girls hardly ever spoke to him when they flocked to Louis. Perhaps it had something to do with how witty and smooth his friend was with the opposite sex.

"You're just not very approachable," said Louis, as if reading his mind. "There's only about ten people you actually speak to outside of us Salesmen."

"Really?"

"You've never noticed that?"

"No." He looked to Daphne, who was still determined to be invisible. "Do you think that? Daphne?"

Sighing, her head snapped back up and she replied, "Pretty much, yes."

"The good news is that some of those ten people _are_ girls," he smirked again at Corvus.

"Tracey Davies? I was thinking about asking her." She was a Slytherin girl in the year below them. She'd flirted quite a bit with him last year. And whenever they past in the hallway she smiled at him.

Louis made a face, "I'd pass on that. Have you heard her laugh?"

Corvus rolled his eyes. Of course he hadn't heard her laugh. He didn't know her! She was just a pretty girl he was positive liked him, enough to be his date.

"Tracey isn't very nice," spoke up Daphne. She avoided eye contact though.

"How about Marietta Edgecombe?" suggest Louis.

"Marietta?"

"Yeah, she'd go with you. According to Jocelyn she hasn't got a date," he told him. "And she's fancied you since our first year."

"Really?"

Louis laughed and nodded. He thought back on all his crossings with Marietta. She'd always been nice and friendly to him, despite being Cho's best friend. Cho had only recently become cordial with him. She complimented his drawings every time she caught a glimpse of one. She sat with him in Muggle Studies.

Before he could go over more of the facts, Daphne interrupted, "Granger wants more Sleekeasy's Hair Potion."

**X  
X**

Even though Louis had opened his eyes, he still found it difficult to bring himself to ask Marietta to the Yule Ball. There was a strong sense of dread and anxiety. She could say no, maybe he was too late and she had a date. Louis could also be wrong. There might've been no alternative motives behind her nice smiles.

For their last Muggle Studies class, Corvus hadn't heard a single word professor Burbage said. He was too busy spying on Marietta out of the corner of his eye. Class went by at a snail's pace.

"I thought last year's work load was horrible," said Marietta when they finally ended class and they were packing their things. She was, of course, smiling that pleasant smile of hers.

"Yeah it's brutal."

"My plan is to spend two hours a day working on my assignments then an hour of just revising," she explained to him as they walked out of class together. "But it's going to be difficult to concentrate on anything until after Christmas. I mean… it's too exciting this year, isn't it?"

Again that smile! It was directed right at him.

"Hn."

"Are you excited?"

"Do you want to be my date for it?" he blurted. It felt like appropriate timing, though he should've been more tactful with his words.

Her face went blank first, then red and then stretched into an elated smile. This all happened in a matter of milliseconds. "I'd love to, Corvus."

**X  
X**

For the rest of the day, Corvus felt like a free man finally. He was bringing to get excited for the ball. Louis's sister still hadn't set them their dress robes, but many of the Beauxbatons girls had purchased theirs at her boutique in Paris. He saw them swapping pictures of dresses with each other over dinner and in the Entrance Hall, by the looks of it Margaux knew what she was doing.

"Marietta's cool," said Max as they headed to dinner.

"Yeah," he couldn't help but grin. Marietta was a pretty girl.

"You won't be walking into a MoMo trap with her," he assured him. Corvus hadn't even thought of that. "Did you know Cedric Diggory's taking Cho?"

He hadn't heard this, but then again until today he'd been bogged down by a lot and fell behind on his Hogwarts gossip. "When'd this happen?"

"Last week I think."

"Well, speak of the devil," remarked Corvus, gesturing ahead. Standing in the Entrance Hall was Fleur Delacour with Rebecca, Louis and Cedric Diggory. He looked to Max to see what his reaction would be, but he remained cool-headed.

"Salut!" waved Rebecca as they approached. It was as if Louis and her had been together for years. They were both holding onto each other.

"Hey," greeted Diggory.

"What's up?" asked Corvus.

"We were just saying, zat someone said zat Dumbledore got ze Wicked Sisters to perform at ze ball," explained Fleur, excitedly. Corvus smiled at her, happy that she was happy. How could he not be happy when she smiled?

"That's really wicked," he replied, a little dazed.

"I hope they play stuff from their old albums," said Louis. "Their new album didn't do it for me."

"I agree," nodded Fleur.

"I kind of liked it," shrugged Diggory.

"Fleur, go to the ball with me!"

For a brief moment Corvus was afraid he'd been the one to blurt this out. But the voice came from behind him. It was Ron Weasley, who'd been passing by on his way to dinner when he foolishly decided to shout this out. Now he was rooted in place, completely petrified with his wide eyes glued on Fleur. He muttered 'ball with me' a few times absentmindedly. You had to wonder if maybe he'd suffer a head injury.

Louis started cracking up. The sound of laughter ended the odd suspension of time. Corvus and Max began to laugh too; even Diggory hid a grin behind his hand. Fleur couldn't even form a reply, she was speechless and looked as horrified as Weasley did. Quickly enough the Gryffindor snapped back to his senses and ran for it.

**X  
X**

Penelope Clearwater was certainly burning the midnight oil. She'd been given a very important job of filing the inventory list for the Tower's commission. Stupidly she forgot to include November 17th's order of ebony wood, something she remembered suddenly while she was sleeping. If Leandra found her sneaking about in the Tower at such an hour doing work she should've already completed…

Actually Leandra wouldn't care. She'd told Penelope once before that she was allowed to enter the Tower whenever she needed to. Penelope always forgot to relax.

So here she was a week before Christmas, looking for November 17th's order of ebony wood. She was in her small office, which was through one of the doors on the spiral staircase. The only light in the Tower came from her wand's tip.

"Where are you?" she whined as she started searching under her desk.

As she imagined the severe, heart-breaking consequences she'd have to face if she didn't find this order, she heard a door shut downstairs. She froze, wondering who could be in the Tower at this hour.

"Hello?"

She stepped outside of her office. She couldn't see anybody.

_Maybe it was the wind. _

**X  
X**

Leandra and Corvus had a unique tradition for the Christmas holiday. Her birthday was December 20th and the night of her birthday marked the beginning of the Spicy Chili Marathon. Every night until Christmas day they ate Leandra's signature spicy chili. It was her signature dish because it was the only thing she knew how to cook. And it was the best chili ever. The tradition began when Corvus was eight years old.

They'd only broken it once before. During Corvus's third year he remained at Hogwarts for the Christmas Holidays. But his mother had sent him a serving of chili everyday between the 20th and Christmas. And Corvus assumed she'd do this again, but on the 20th he didn't get any package from home.

"Are you okay?" asked Daphne as they walked to the owlry on his mother's birthday. He was going to send her gift. He'd gotten her a scarf he'd ordered from Margaux's boutique. Daphne was sending her father a letter.

"Sure," he shrugged. Snow was falling thickly upon the castle and its grounds now. The pale blue Beauxbatons carriage looked like a large, chilly, frosted pumpkin next to Hagrid's cabin while the Durmstrang ship's portholes were glazed with ice, the rigging white with frost. During the afternoons when there was sunlight to sit under, Corvus would go out with his sketchbook to draw this.

As fifth years they had an enormous workload over the holidays, but it was difficult to get into the working mood leading up to Christmas. Slytherin dungeon was hardly less crowded now than during term-time. People were rowdier too. It felt like Corvus was constantly called upon as a prefect to break up some fight.

Corvus didn't hear from his mother until Christmas Eve day.

_Dear Corvus, _

_Thank you for the scarf! It's lovely and I've been wearing it everyday, everywhere. I'm sad  
we couldn't have our usual chili marathon, but I guess we'll have to have an informal one  
later. How's everything? Anything unusual been going on? _

_It's very busy here at the tower. I'll be seeing you very soon though!_

_Love,  
Mum_

It was disappointing. Luckily he didn't have enough time to sulk about it. He was surrounded by his friends. It was impossibly not to enjoy himself. And on Christmas morning, he felt his mother had made it up to him with an amazing pile of gifts. She'd gotten him a magical camera, a new sketchbook, three new sweaters, a wool hat, a golden quill that wrote dictations ('very handy for revision time' she wrote him) and she sent him the bottle of cologne Morag gave him for Christmas last year. He'd never taken it out of the box, but his mother swore it was a very attractive scent and he should try it on.

Also in his pile of gifts was a Quidditch jersey from Coco. Sirius sent him a cool and stylish looking leather jacket. It fitted nicely too. Looking at himself in the mirror with it on over his pajamas, Corvus secretly agreed with Louis's prediction that he was placed amongst Hogwarts's top twenty best-looking lads.

There was a small, thin black box at the bottom of his gifts. There was no note, but Corvus opened it and found a silver necklace. On the silver chain was a pendant showing the Stirling family crest of a falcon soaring across a tower.

"Who sent you jewelry?" scoffed Anwar. He laughed and shrugged.

"Probably my mum," he replied and put the necklace back in the box. He'd never liked the idea of wearing necklaces. His mother knew that. She'd tried giving him jewelry before to no avail. But he supposed because this was obviously a family heirloom he'd succumb to wearing it.

"Finally, she's sent them," yawned Louis as he pulled out a parcel from his pile of gifts. It was from Margaux.

"What is that?" asked Jeremy, eying it enviously when he saw all the Salesmen got one.

"Piss off."

"Like I care," he sneered and left the room for breakfast.

"That was easy," smirked Max as he pulled out a large box sent from his parents. Even before he opened it, Corvus could smell the aroma of fresh baked cakes and sweets. "I was wondering how we'd get rid of him."

The Salesmen skipped breakfast in the Great Hall to indulge in the treats Max's parents sent them. Anwar suggested they save some for Daphne later, which they all agreed to. Afterwards, Louis went to meet with Rebecca. The rest of them went out into the ground.

Malfoy was out too with his group and the Quidditch team. The lads suggested flying, which everyone liked the sound of. Max borrowed Louis's broom while Corvus used his own. It soon turned into an airborne snowball fight. Pansy and her girlfriends were drawn to the show, but they left at four o'clock to get ready for the ball.

"They need four hours?" said Max right before Montague hit him hard on the side of the head with a snowball.

There was no Christmas tea today, as the ball included a feast. At seven o'clock the boys abandoned their snowball fight and returned to the common room with their brooms resting on their shoulders. Louis was already in their dormitory room, having just gotten out of the shower.

"You'd better start getting cleaned up," he grinned, as he looked them up and down. They were all wet and red in the face from the cold. "Or no girl's going to want to snog you."

Margaux had definitely delivered on the dress robes. Each outfit was unique, expensive looking and elegant. Louis had a light blue robe with a white vest and gold tie. Anwar had a dark plum robe with a high collar and silver embroidery. Max had a sapphire blue cloak that was clasped across his chest with small gold claws. Underneath he wore all black.

For Corvus she gave him sea green vest over a white button shirt with a black bowtie. To be worn over that was a black silk robe with a radical plunged neckline that creatively revealed the vest underneath. The vest also had a pocket for his watch and she sent him a silver chain to hook it onto. The four of them looked very sharp, and before he left Corvus squirted a bit of his cologne on.

The common room looked strange, full of people wearing different colors instead of the usual mass of black. Malfoy was wearing dress robes of black velvet with a high collar, but unlike Anwar's his robes looked stiff and made him look like a Muggle vicar. Pansy was beaming at her date's side in very frilly robes of pale pink. Crabbe and Goyle were both wearing green. Blaise Zabini was handsome in his silver robes and on his arm was his date for the night, Tracey Davies. She had her mousy brown hair held back in a bun and her cat-like eyes were very prominent. They seemed to eat up the sight of Corvus.

"Where's Daphne?" he asked, self-conscious of Tracey's stare.

"I'm right here."

He couldn't believe he didn't see it before. She was standing slightly behind Pansy and Malfoy with Theodore Nott. Her long, curly blonde hair had been straightened and it looked sleek, shiny. Margaux had put her into a strapless forest green dress that hugged her body very snuggly. Corvus had never noticed how… interesting her curves were. He'd noted that over the summer she'd gotten _wider_ but under her loose-fitted robes and clothes, he never noticed that she'd gotten… well, let's just say she had all the parts a woman should have and they looked nice.

"It's a bit much, I know," she blushed, brushing back her hair. Corvus had been staring, all the Salesmen had been.

"Blimey, Daphne," breathed Louis. He had that glint in his eyes, the usual one he got when he wanted to flirt with a girl, but he refrained.

"Shall we?" asked Max.

The Entrance Hall was packed with students milling around waiting for eight o'clock, when the Great Hall would be opened. Those people who were meeting partners from different houses were edging through the crowd, trying to find each other. Louis found Rebecca and Veronique, he led Anwar over to them.

"Hi Corvus," Marietta found him first. She looked very pretty she wore dark blue robes. She held out her hand for him. He didn't expect this, and for a moment he hesitated but he took her hand anyway. It couldn't hurt, right?

The oak front doors opened, and everyone turned to look as the Durmstrang students entered with Professor Karkaroff. Krum was at the front of the part, accompanied by a pretty girl in blue robes. Over their heads Corvus saw that an area of lawn right in front of the castle had been transformed into a sort of grotto full of fairy lights.

Breises broke away from her schoolmates and came over to them. She looked strikingly beautiful with her hair brushed back and she wore a dark blue robes, coincidentally matching Max's robes. "You look very handsome," she said, smiling coyly. She then regarded Corvus, "You too cousin."

"Thanks."

"And Daphne!" she gasped when she noticed her. The look on her face said everything. Daphne awkwardly smiled back at her.

"Champions over here, please!" McGonagall's voice called. The crowd parted for the champions to walk through to McGonagall. They were set to wait by the doors, because the champions were supposed to enter the Great Hall in procession when the rest of the students had sat down.

As they were passed the champions, Corvus immediately noted Cedric Diggory and Cho Chang. They were beaming at each other. Max and Breises were ahead of him, so he couldn't see whether his friend even acknowledged them.

"Ouch!"

Louis had suddenly punched him between the shoulder blades. He spun around to glare at him, but Louis was pointing to Krum's date. Corvus's jaw dropped. It was Granger.

But she didn't look like Granger at all. Her hair was no longer bushy, but sleek and shiny, and twisted up into an elegant knot at the back of her head. She was wearing robes made of a floaty, periwinkle-blue material and she was holding herself differently, somehow. And she was smiling, and Corvus noticed that her front teeth weren't as long and bucktoothed as he remembered them…

The walls of the Great Hall had all been covered in sparkling silver frost, with hundreds of garlands of mistletoe and ivy crossing the starry black ceiling. The house tables had vanished. Instead there were about a hundred smaller, lantern-lit ones, each seating about a dozen people.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" smiled Marietta as Louis picked their table nearest to the large round table at the top of the Hall, where the judges were sitting. They were still holding hands.

"Yeah," he smiled back. He followed Max's example of pulling out his date's chair for her to sit. He looked around at his friends, "Where's Daphne?"

Somewhere along the way she'd sneaked off with Theodore Nott. Scanning the Great Hall, he found them two tables away. They were seated with a few Ravenclaw and Slytherin students he didn't know the names of. Daphne was laughing at something her date was saying. The lantern light lit her face beautifully. Had her skin always been so luminous?

"Who are you?" Breises asked Marietta abruptly, critically eying her from across the table. She shifted uncomfortably for a moment.

"Marietta Edgecombe."

"She's in our year," explained Max, helpfully.

"But this is our first time we've met?"

"She's in Ravenclaw, Breises," Corvus told her, nervous that she'll scare off his date.

"Ah," she nodded, eying Marietta strangely as if her being a Ravenclaw made her suspect to something. "Well, I am Breises Stirling, his cousin."

"It's nice to meet you," she smiled nervously at her. Breises gave a forced smile in return. Luckily she decided to ignore Marietta for the rest of the night, instead focusing her attention on Max. Now Corvus saw how much his best friend smiled in her company.

There was no food as yet on the glittering golden plates, but small menus lying in front of each of them. The trick was to announce what you wanted from the menu and the meal would appear. Corvus ordered the steak.

"Zis 'as been very fun 'ere in 'Ogwarts," said Veronique pleasantly. Veronique was dressed in champagne colored robes, but no matter how pretty she looked Anwar didn't seem impressed by his luck. "Though I miss some things from Beauxbatons, like ze ice sculptures we 'ave for Christmas. They sparkle like diamonds."

Rebecca nodded in agreement, "And we 'ave choirs of wood-nymphs to serenade us as we eat. It is a very beautiful night."

"Maybe the next Triwizard Tournament will take place in Beauxbatons," said Louis.

"But we won't be there," frowned Rebecca.

"Howarts is very nice," agreeed Breises. "I feel comfortable here, I like it."

"Yeah, I love it here," said Max with his half-smirk. "At the end of my first year I didn't want to leave."

"I never felt like that for Durmstrang. It is an exciting place to learn magic, yes, but it never feels like a home," she said. "We have a castle too, but it's not as big as this, just four floors and the fires are lit only for magical purposes. But our grounds are larger than yours, we have lakes and mountains… that is where Durmstrang's beauty lies."

"Before the school year began I had a strategy in mind for studying, but with the tournament and everything – it's impossibly unfair!" laughed Marietta. They were talking about their OWLs, something Corvus had no real interest in talking about. "What subject do you think is your weakest? Not that you have many like that, you are like the top in our year at everything, aren't you?"

"History of Magic, just because I'm lazy at it," he shrugged.

"It is really boring the way Binns teaches it. Sometimes I find some of the things we study are pretty interesting, it's just the way he teaches it."

"Yeah, never looked at it like that."

When all the food had been consumed, Dumbledore stood up and asked the students to do the same. Then, at a wave of his wand, the tables zoomed back along the walls, leaving the floor clear, and then he conjured a raised platform into existence along the right-hand wall. A set of drums, several guitars, a lute, a cello and some bagpipes were set upon it.

The Weird Sisters now trooped up onto the stage to wildly enthusiastic applause. They were all extremely hairy and dressed in black robes that had been artfully ripped and torn. Their clothes reminded Corvus of what Margaux had worn the first time he met her, which made sense because apparently she did their wardrobe this concert tour. They picked up their instruments and the lanterns on all the tables went out except for the table where the champions sat.

The Weird Sisters struck up a slow, mournful tune. Corvus watched the champions and their partners walk onto the lit dance floor. He kept an eye on Potter, hoping he might trip or something, but he revolved on spot with his partner, boringly. Very soon other people got up to dance, Louis and Rebecca being one of the first.

Corvus saw Daphne and Nott get up too. He turned to Marietta, grinning, "Want to dance?"

They followed after Louis and Rebecca, and Corvus took her hand and placed his other one on her hip. Unlike Potter, he knew how to waltz which seemed to please Marietta incredibly.

The Weird Sisters struck up a new song, which was much faster. They kept dancing, but they weren't standing as close. At times Corvus would copy Louis and spin or turn Marietta.

"You know what would be fun?" shouted Louis over the music. "Let's swap!"

He spun Rebecca towards Corvus, who let go of Marietta's hand before the three of them collided. He caught Rebecca, who grabbed his hand and immediately went back to dancing. Every song they mixed things up, Corvus danced with Veronique, Breises and, surprisingly, Daphne.

"Having fun?" he asked her.

"Yeah, you?"

He nodded.

"Marietta looks nice."

He looked at her dancing uncomfortably with Warrington. "Where's your date?"

"Dancing with the girl he should've asked to the Ball," she smirked and pointed at Nott. He was dancing with a girl from Ravenclaw.

"What makes you reckon he should've asked her?"

"Because he fancies her, obviously. He's too shy though, so he asked me instead."

"Doesn't that bother you?"

"No, why should it?"

"Don't you want to go with someone you fancy?"

Her smile faltered, "I don't fancy anyone… so, is that what you did? You came with Marietta because you fancied her? I thought it was only because Louis told you to."

Corvus shrugged, "She's alright."

The song came to an end and she excused herself to sit down. Corvus felt quite tired too. He followed her to a table. Anwar was already sitting; talking with Adrian Pucey had his date, Bryony Pettings.

"This whole Tournament's supposed to be about getting to know foreign wizards and making friends with them!"

"No it isn't! It's about winning!"

Corvus turned to see Ron Weasley and Granger going at it, Potter sitting between them looking very awkward. Weasley said something else to her, which sent her over the edge apparently because she jumped to her feet and stormed off across the dance floor.

"Wow," Daphne said what everyone was thinking.

Marietta came over and sat down on the other side of Corvus. She was a bit pink in the face from dancing. "It's hot, isn't it? Do you know where the drinks are?"

Corvus shrugged.

"I think they're over there," said Daphne. She stood up, "I'll go with you – I'm thirsty too."

"Great, thanks," she smiled at her then back at Corvus, "Do you want anything?"

"Just a Butterbeer."

"Corvus, maybe _you _can help," said Bryony, shooting Anwar a nasty look. "Can you see if Louis will ask Millie to dance?"

"Why would I do that?"

"Because she's going to fall to pieces, look at her!" Milvina was the only Slytherin sitting amongst a bunch of fifth year Gryffindors. Her arms were crossed and she winced every time McLaggen tried to lay a hand on her.

"It's her fault that git's her date."

"But you _know_ she wanted to go with Louis."

"Piss off, Pettings, we're not going to beg Louis to dance with her," glared Anwar. She gave a huff and turned her face away from the boys.

"Vill someone danced vit me, please?" a voice asked. Veronique had approached their table, with a pleading sort of look on her face. She didn't even look to Anwar for an answer. "Corvus?"

"Huh… sure," he felt his cheeks warm up. He got to his feet and took her hand. She led him back on the dance floor. She was a very good dancer, he'd noticed that before but this time she danced much closer. When the song ended he took half a step back as if he was going to return to his table, but she grabbed his wrist.

"Please, one more song? Anwar won't dance vit me." She had lovely blue eyes. He stayed for one more song, and then they both went to sit down. Marietta was waiting for him with two Butterbeers in her hands.

"We had a little run with Morag," she told him, drinking. "Don't worry, she's here with Anthony Goldstein. She only asked how our night was, she even complimented my dress."

He looked out onto the dance floor, weary. This put him slightly on edge. He didn't drink from his Butterbeer. Once Marietta finished her glass, she wanted to go dancing again. But as they danced, Corvus noticed her complexion drastically change. She was turning green.

"I don't feel so well…" she whimpered. Suddenly she lost her footing and Corvus had to quickly snatch her up before she fell. People turned to stare, some people gasped.

"Are you alright?" he helped her back on her feet.

"Hm – argghhh!"

Marietta bent forward and vomited. Corvus leapt back. Girls screamed around them while the boys started laughing. Zooming through the crowd, as if by a Summoning Charm, came Madam Pomfrey. She looked aghast, "Move away everyone. She needs air."

She took Marietta by the arm. "Huh? What's – what's going on?"

"I knew something like this would happen," Pomfrey muttered on her way out. Corvus watched his date be quickly escorted off the dance floor and out of the Great Hall.

**X  
X**

Christmas without Corvus was hardly worth fusing about. That's why she had no qualms about visiting the Stirling Tower on Christmas night alone to meet Emmeline Vance. Diagon Alley was all but deserted. A blanket of thick white snow covered everything in sight. Leandra's footsteps marked the snow alone. The Stirling Tower glowed red against the inky night sky.

Emmeline stood outside the Tower's doors. She nearly blended perfectly with the shadows of the arched doorway. "Happy Christmas," she greeted her.

"You too, Emmy." Leandra gently touched the door with her bare palm. The doors unlocked and quietly swung open. Leandra allowed Emmy to enter first. The candles on the first floor lit on their own to give them light. Once both women were inside the doors closed again.

"And you're sure we're alone?"

Leandra opened her arms and gazed upwards into the enchanted ceiling. Emmeline watched silently. A trembled traveled up through the Tower, a pulse sent from the ground up. Then stillness fell again.

Leandra let her arms drop; she exhaled heavily as if she'd been holding her breath. "We're alone."

Emmeline smirked, "Neat trick."

"Thanks," she smiled sheepishly. "So… what can you tell me about Métis?"

"I have reason to believe she's dead."

"Based on what?"

"She hasn't set foot back in Romania since she disappeared in the summer," she explained. "The Muggle authorities are investigating the disappearance now too."

Leandra frowned slightly. "And you didn't see her near Nurmengard?"

"There was no sign of her. No one came, beside me and a few German Ministry officials who had to be there."

"Damn, I was sure Ascanius's burial would get her to show her horse-face," she hissed. She paced for a moment. "Nothing feels right."

"I agree," sighed Emmeline. "It's unnerving – no one's found Bertha Jorkins yet either."

Leandra nodded. _It feels like it did before_, she thought grimly. She didn't want to be the one to say it out loud, but she knew Emmeline felt the same way. And she didn't even know about Peter Pettigrew and Harry's dreams.

"You should go."

"What are we going to do next?"

Leandra had to smile. Emmeline hadn't changed a bit. "We're going to wait. It's all we can do at this point. Whatever's happening will unfold itself."

"Who else do we have on this?"

"Moody knows what we know. I think in a few weeks time I'll have to meet with him," she explained.

Emmeline sighed, "I hate the waiting game."

"Tell me about it," grinned Leandra. With nothing else to discuss, Emmeline bid her farewell and left through the front doors, Disapparating the moment her feet left the Stirling Tower.

So, here she was, alone on Christmas. Sirius was somewhere en route to Hogwarts, hiding with Buckbeak and was probably freezing. She worried about him. This growing conspiracy had revitalized him, but it didn't feel healthy. She'd look into his eyes and she saw the old Sirius, the one who fought side-by-side with James. James was gone, the game had changed and it couldn't be played the same way. A lot more was at stake for both of them.

She went downstairs. There was a small hallway at the end of the stairs. To the right was the Master Crafter's office and to the left, the archives. No one could physically enter the archives unless they were the Master Crafter. Even as the Master Crafter it wasn't so simple.

Leandra took out her wand and conjured a small dagger. She stalked towards the iron door leading to the archive. Without hesitation she dragged the knife across her left palm and pressed her bloodied hand to the door. There was a low groan and the iron door turned red. Leandra stepped through.

The archives were held in a low-ceiling hallway that stretched into darkness. There were no torches or candles to give light to the the Master Crafter. Leandra tore a piece of fabric off her robes and held it in her bleeding hand. With her other hand she used her wand to light her way.

She didn't go far into the archives. The walls were lined with shelves holding millions of written documents, testaments and contracts concerning the workings of the Tower. But a few steps in there were a basin filled with a glittering substance. She hadn't visited this pensieve for years.

She liked to pretend she couldn't remember what was in it. She knew. She bent forward and closed her eyes. The tip of her nose touched the surface and she was catapulted into the past.

**X  
X**

Louis was in a laughing fit when he heard about what happened to Marietta. The vomit had been cleaned up in no time, but Corvus still felt humiliated for the both of them and now he was dateless.

"Maybe we can go for a walk?" suggested Rebecca, her eyes shifting over to Veronique. She gave her girlfriend a smirk and asked her in French if she wanted to come with them.

"A walk sounds brilliant," agreed Louis and he slapped Corvus on the back. "Come on, mate."

They didn't let him respond. Without a second glance at their friends they left the Great Hall and went into the Entrance Hall. The front doors were still open. The fluttering fairy lights in the rose garden winked and twinkled as they went down the front steps, where they found themselves surrounded by bushes, winding ornamental paths and large statues. Corvus could hear a fountain running.

"I don't know what Anwar's problem is," said Louis. "Sorry you were stuck with him, Veronique. Guess he's shy around girls."

"It's okay, I 'ad fun," she told him. "There vere other people to dance vit."

At this she gave Corvus a big smile. He hardly paid attention to it though, he was too busy thinking about what happened to Marietta. "You don't just get sick like that. And before it happened she said she ran into Morag."

"Morag?" asked Rebecca.

"His ex-girlfriend," Louis filled her in quickly. "Give it a rest, mate. There's nothing you can do about it now. _You're_ not sick, so enjoy yourself. Don't you speak French?"

"A little."

"_Parlez-vous Francois_?" asked Veronique, smiling at him playfully. This time Corvus paid attention to the look she was giving him. She began to ask him questions in French, speaking slowly so he could understand. They were simple questions like 'Where are you from?', 'Do you have brothers or sisters?' and 'What music do you listen to?' but for some reason Corvus felt like it was one of the best conversations he's ever had with a girl.

He was in the middle of listing all the different countries he'd visited when he realized Rebecca and Louis were gone. They'd disappeared somewhere in the twinkling rose garden.

"_Voulez-vous vous asseoir?_" she asked him, gesturing to a carved bench. As they sat down, Corvus was very conscious of the fact that she had her leg pressed against his.

"_Il est belle ce soir_," he managed to say. She nodded.

"_Tu es tres gentil." _

"_Ah, merci. Tu aussi." _

She said something that he didn't understand. All he caught was Anwar's name. When he asked her to repeat, she spoke in English, "I wanted you to be my date tonight. I said yes to Anwar only because I knew he was Louis's friend and you are Louis's friend."

"Oh… I didn't know."

She kept staring at his lips then up at his eyes. He soon started to do the same thing.

"Can I – can I kiss you?" he dared to ask her. She nodded yes.


	22. Running Clock

**A/N** Okay so I've rewritten this chapter and the last one, because of several reasons...

a.) I need to pick up the Metis storyline again!

b.) I've been thinking about the reviews concerning Leandra's switch from Regulus to Sirius. I've decided to ease up on writing scenes where Sirius and Lee are all lovey-dovey. It's more complicated than that, I've just been incredibly lazy at writing recently. It's not a good excuse, I know, but please bare with me :( So I've taken out the scene with Lee and Sirius celebrating xmas together. Instead I have Leandra confronting an important memory from her past, one that could relate to Voldemort's return.

c.) I wanted to create some of the lazy writing in the previous drafts... ESPECIALLY in this chapter

* * *

**A Running Clock**

Leandra watched her former-self stand by Ascanius. They were at the entrance to a cave, hidden in the side of a jagged cliff at the seaside. It was very late, the wind was whipping at them and her former-self flinched against its strikes. He was still handsome and young. He stilled protected Leandra then, he hadn't learned of what ways she wanted to betray him. His face was solemn because he'd disappointed the Dark Lord. She was there to fix his mistake.

"The Dark Lord wants this to be a fortress," he explained. "I explained what I knew of crafting, because he wanted to lay the magic himself. It only made sense, as the most powerful wizard, it would mean this fortress would be all powerful too."

The cave was threatening to fall apart. The magic infused with it was too powerful and unstructured. Something else was in there too, something strangely powerful and enticing. It was all hanging on by a thread. "You've never received the proper training, of course it was going to fail."

He wasn't going to argue with her. Back then he respected her and trusted her. He replied quietly, "I know a few principles… from what father would teach me."

Her heart skipped a beat. It was strange to hear him speak of their father without venom. For a moment she didn't know how to reply.

"I need to know what this cave is going to be used for," she told him. "The magic in this is completely unfocused and whatever is in there – it's not compatible with anything else in there. It's disruptive. Everything in this is coming loose. It's only a matter of time before it starts to implode or something."

"Can you fix it?"

"Only if I know what the cave is used for," she repeated, annoyed.

"The Dark Lord has not seen it fit to tell me."

"I can't fix this if I don't know why it's suppose to exist," she stressed. Ascanius looked away. She thought that maybe he was trying to remember what he could to answer the question. Maybe just a vague mentioning of its purpose could do. But no, he was contemplating something rather drastic. He pulled up the sleeve of his left arm and touched his Dark Mark with his wand.

The Dark Lord was coming.

**X  
X**

He didn't know how they ended up rolling around in a rose bush together. He couldn't keep track of where his hands went or hers. He couldn't even keep track of whether or not he was breathing. It felt like their lips were attached at all times though, until she broke the kiss.

"You smell good," she panted.

"Er, you too." She really did. Her hair was completely undone and there were twigs sticking out of it. Taking it slow this time, she kissed him again. Unconsciously, he heard voices.

"Severus, you cannot pretend this isn't happening! It's been getting clearer and clearer for months, I am becoming seriously concerned, I can't deny it –"

"Then flee. Flee, I will make your excuses. I, however, am remaining at Hogwarts."

_Severus – SNAPE! _There was a delay before the alarms went off in his head. All the heat in his body shut off. He pulled Veronique off him, apologizing rapidly as he scrambled into a crouching position.

"_Ca va?_"

"No, no ca va. Not at all," he muttered. He peered through the leaves of their rose bush. Snape and Karkaroff were walking down the winding path towards them. Snape had his wand out and was blasting rose bushes apart, his expression most ill-natured. Squeals issued from many of the bushes, and dark shapes emerged from them.

"Ten points from Hufflepuff, Fawcett! And ten points from Ravenclaw, too, Stebbins!"

"_Merde_," hissed Veronique, wisely. Corvus nodded. This certainly was _merde. _He took her hand – he had to momentarily tell himself to calm down when he felt again her smooth, soft skin – and together they backed out of their rose bush. They stood up, quietly shook themselves off and stepped onto another path to avoid Snape and Karkaroff.

They looked at each other and started to laugh. Their formal robes, so beautiful at the beginning of the night, were now covered in grass stains. Corvus was certain his robe was on backwards now. He couldn't tell in this light.

"C'etait amusant," she grinned. "Do you have your wand?"

"Huh – yeah," he fished it out. Without asking for permission she took it from him and without speaking the incantation, used a Scoring Spell to clean her dress. She returned the wand to him for him to do the same.

**X  
X**

Leandra felt the same terror seize her when the Dark Lord arrived as she did when it first happened. The waves sounded more violent as they crashed against the rocky shore below. The winds were fiercer. Ascanius knelt and so did her younger-self.

The present-day Leandra gripped the cloth in her bloody hand tighter.

"Speak Ascanius," the Dark Lord ordered in his hiss-like voice. It was difficult not to be afraid.

"My sister needs to know what the cave is needed for, my lord," her brother explained. Leandra cautiously stood up as Ascanius had.

The Dark Lord's thin mouth curled, "The Madame Crafter wishes to know what it is I need so safeguarded in there?"

She swallowed, and spoke in a shaking, raspy voice, "N-no my lord. I need to know what is being held in there, if it has its own magical nature it might conflict with the construct. I need to make sure everything is compatible, sir. I don't need to know exactly what it is, only what its nature is."

"Let's see," the Dark Lord paced, delighted to toy with them. The older-Leandra wasn't held in suspense though. She grimly awaited what she knew was going to be revealed. "Inside there is an object of the wickedest of magical inventions, I shall not speak of it further. Otherwise I would have to kill you Leandra. And you are so young, and have only just made wizarding history. It would be tragic."

**X  
X**

There weren't many songs left to dance to when they returned to the Great Hall. Max and Breises were still on the dance floor, while Anwar had left completely. Daphne was sitting with Theodore Nott and the Ravenclaw girl he allegedly fancied. When she saw Corvus enter with Veronique on his arm – not to mention lipstick stains on his face – her expression turned into a mix of shock and confusion.

When the Weird Sisters finished playing at midnight, everyone gave them a last, loud round of applause and started to wend their way into the Entrance Hall. Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson caught up with Corvus as they exited, the younger boy leaned over to whisper, "How do you do it?"

"Do what?"

His eyes were lit with genuine awe. "Come to the Ball with one girl and leave with another."

Until that moment he'd actually forgotten that Marietta was his date. A terrible, guilty feeling started to grow in the pit of his stomach.

Louis was waiting in the Entrance Hall for them, grinning. "Snape found us, took five points off."

"That's better than what others got," he told him. Rebecca and Veronique started speaking rapid French to on another, filling each other in on what had happened. Louis's brilliant blue eyes remained on Corvus though. "What?"

"Proud of you, that's all."

"Shut up." When he said goodbye to Veronique, he gave her a modest peck on the lips. That horrible feeling about what he'd done to Marietta was still sitting in his stomach after all. He watched his French date walk away until an unfamiliar giggle caught his attention.

Max and Breises were leaving the Great Hall, arm in arm. She was giggling, something Corvus had never witnessed from her.

"Cousin," she greeted him. "Tonight was fun, I think for all of us, yes?"

She was eying the lipstick stains on his collar. He tried to move so she couldn't see it.

"Breises, ve must go," Poliakoff tapped her on the shoulder. The Durmstrang group was waiting.

"Oh, yes," she said, crestfallen. Louis discreetly nudged Corvus and gestured that they head back to the Slytherin dungeon, leaving Max alone to say his goodbyes to his date.

"How'd they get so close?" he asked Louis as they walked away. He looked back once to see them kissing. Max had her face cupped in his hands and it wasn't a kiss like him and Veronique had in the rose bush. It was a lot more romantic, it reminded Corvus of a scene out of Muggle film. "She's a bit much to take, isn't she?"

Louis shrugged, "She's fit. But I don't know, I didn't pay them much attention either. They'd always talk about dull things, like new theories in potion brewing, stuff like that."

"I suppose it was just a matter of time before he found a girl who'd actually be swoon by that."

They laughed but that abruptly stopped when they got to the secret entrance to their commons. Standing outside the wall was Brazda consoling a sobbing Milvina Fox. At first they didn't even notice the two boys.

"Shh, he's really not worth it, Millie," Brazda told her. She sounded tired.

"He didn't even look at me, _the whole night!_" she choked. Brazda noticed them first, and she did not look kindly at them. Actually, Corvus realized quickly, her icy glare wasn't directed at him, it was at Louis.

He cursed under his breath and braced himself. Corvus watched him take the first step towards the girls. He awkwardly smiled, "Evening girls."

Milvina hid her face from him and said weakly, "Go away."

In the low light of the dungeon corridors, Corvus saw Louis's face drop. He looked miserable. For a moment he thought he was going to make some grand gesture, maybe hug her or say something, but it seemed he didn't have anything.

**X  
X**

His words were a direct quote from Magick Moste Evile. "Of the Horcrux, wickedest of magical inventions, we shall not speak nor give direction…"

Leandra only shared this memory with one other person. Regulus. She took a step away from her pensieve. There were more memories in there, fonder ones. She was more afraid of those. She would never want to leave the Tower then.

Removing her bandage, she touched the iron door again with her blood to pass through. She swiftly left the Tower for the Leaky Caldron, where she'd travel back home by Floo Powder. Revisiting that memory presented her with the same dilemma she faced fifteen years ago. Does she tell anyone else about what she _may _know about Voldemort?

_If it's really happening… if he's really coming back, it's because of that Horcrux_, she thought. She bit her bottom lip. _Regulus died because I told him about it, it led to his final decision… does this mean he died in vain? _

Her eyes began to sting with tears.

**X  
X**

Everybody got up late on Boxing Day and Corvus hoped the Slytherin common would be quieter than it had been recently. But when Corvus came in there was a large group waiting for him, all wearing grins and snickering. Montague even broke into applause.

Corvus's lip curled. Were they taking the piss out of him?

"I don't think Merlin himself could've pulled off a stunt like that," exclaimed Montague. Corvus was beginning to understand.

"Who's the better kisser – Edgecombe or that French girl?" asked Bole eagerly.

"Marietta didn't – we didn't do anything," he corrected them.

"So it's the French girl," grinned Miles Bletchley.

"She looks like she'd be better," said Warrington.

He glared at him. The thought of Cassius Warrington drooling after Veronique annoyed him, greatly.

"What about Rajan though?" asked Malfoy. "What'd he say about you stealing his date? Not that he had much hold on her – or any girl."

"Yeah, is he well angry?" asked Derrick. "Do you think he'll want to duel you?"

"You wouldn't have any problem with that, would you Corvus?" smirked Malfoy. Crabbe and Goyle snickered in agreement. Corvus hadn't even thought about what Anwar would think about Veronique and him.

He bit his bottom lip. His group of admirers followed him to the Great Hall. Anwar and Daphne were already seated at the Slytherin table. Daphne was happily chatting away with Blaise Zabini, which was out of the ordinary. She usually never socialized with others outside of the Salesmen. But as he approached them, he watched Anwar. He looked normal, not angry anyway.

"What?" Anwar asked Corvus when he noticed him staring at him.

"I – I just wanted to say something," he struggled for a moment. Glancing irritably at the dungheads who'd followed him, he took the seat across from him. "About Veronique…"

"Oh that," he said nonchalantly. "I already know."

"And… you're okay?"

Anwar nodded, "She was too tall. Her teeth remind me of a rabbit. Not my type."

Corvus laughed in disbelief. "Good then," he said as he sat back, relaxed. Malfoy and the others were visibly let down there wasn't going to be a fight.

"I don't think you're in the clear yet," Daphne told him, looking beyond their table at what was coming. Corvus followed her gaze. Cho Chang was approaching with Jocelyn Grey and Patricia Bowels. All three of them looked vexed.

"You're a right git, Black," snapped Cho when they got to their table.

"How could you do that to Marietta?"

He was immediately reminded of the time when Morag MacDougal's group of girlfriends cornered him shortly after they broke up. What was different this time, though, was that he actually deserved this reprimand.

"You don't care at all how you treat people, do you?" accused Cho. "You never have, you just walk around like you own the place and as if everyone should be _thrilled_ by your presence. Well guess what? There are hundreds of other people better than you, most of all Mari."

"Yeah!"

Her attacks were coming at him so fast he didn't know how to respond. He kept thinking about how happy Marietta had been when he asked her out to the Yule Ball. She'd been smiling that entire night.

"You're nothing but a mean, greedy, arrogant brat. I can't wait until someone makes a foot out of you, see how you like it."

Jocelyn and Patricia nodded vigorously.

"Well? What do you have to say for yourself, Black?"

His throat felt incredibly dry. Cho was scowling at him, she wasn't going to leave him alone until he said _something_. "I-I didn't mean to…" he finally mustered up the courage to speak, "to hurt her… to hurt her feelings."

Cho shook her head, "You're a coward."

"Yeah!"

Satisfied with cutting him down to a third his size, Cho turned on her heels. As she was about to stalk off though, she nearly ran into Max and Breises. They'd come in halfway through her verbal beat down on Corvus. All three of them froze.

"Hey…"

"Oh hi, Max…" Cho's voice was sweet again.

"What's going on?" Max's eyes looked around cautiously. Breises's gaze however was decisively fixed on Cho.

"You have a terrible friend," declared Jocelyn Grey. She nudged Cho before stalking off back to the Ravenclaw table. Without saying a word, Cho side-stepped Max and Breises and left.

"They're all obviously very rude girls," decided Breises.

**X  
X**

"Are you hiding or something?"

Corvus had been hiding, in his dorm room. He was disguising it as studying with a few Charms textbooks open but he hadn't actually read a thing. Louis wasn't fooled though.

"Did you hear what Chang said to me?"

"Malfoy filled me in, yeah. You're not afraid of Chang are you?"

"No, course not," he scowled.

"Good, because Rebecca and Veronique want to go flying with us," he smiled. But he noticed Corvus's hesitant look. "What?"

"What about Marietta?" he hissed. "What if I see her?"

"Haven't you heard? She's going to be bed-ridden for days. It was poison apparently. And what's going to happen if you see her?"

"Obviously, Louis, she's going to be angry with me for snoggin' Veronique."

Louis grinned at him, "You're an idiot, mate – Marietta and you aren't girlfriend and boyfriend. You just need to tell her you asked her out to the Yule Ball as a friend, just apologize for the misunderstanding, that's all."

He was a genius. Corvus couldn't believe it. It was so simple. Why couldn't he have thought of that when Cho was yelling at him?

Immediately after he closed up his books and got his broom. And every day leading up to the beginning of the new term, Corvus and Louis met with their French girlfriends. He couldn't remember when he ever had so much fun in the company of girls. Surely it helped that Louis was there, he had a knack for keeping the conversation going even if his French was a bit 'rusty.'

While everyone started working on their schoolwork that they ignored before the Yule Ball, Corvus still found it too difficult to concentrate on his work. He only had nights to study, and by then his head was so filled with thoughts of Veronique it was impossible. Unlike with Morag, being with Veronique was fun, easy-going and she was just as good of a kisser as MoMo. Even though they didn't speak the same language fluently, he felt they still laughed a lot, mostly because of how they had to act out words or because they said silly things accidentally.

He couldn't imagine them _ever _fighting.

**X  
X**

"_Quelle est tu premiere classe?"_

"_Huh… Defense contra les…_ Dark Arts," he sputtered into laughter, as did she. They were holding hands at the breakfast table.

"'Ou are close," she beamed. It was the first day back to classes, and as ridiculous as it sounded, Corvus felt sad at the thought that he wasn't going to be spending the afternoon with Veronique.

"You have Muggle Studies too," interrupted Max. Breises and the other Durmstrang students had already been summoned for their morning classes. "Is this the first time you'll see her since the Yule Ball or what?"

"Thanks for the reminder," he grumbled.

"Remember what I told you," assured Louis. Just then there was a burst of snickering along the table, originating from Malfoy and his gang. Never to be one left out of the loop, Louis leaned over, "What's up?"

"Huh, you haven't read the _Daily Prophet?_" sneered Pansy.

"I rarely ever do," he replied coolly. His clear blue eyes narrowed at her, annoyed. Pansy's smirk faltered momentarily.

"I've got you covered," said Malfoy. He pulled out a page from his issue of the _Daily Prophet_ and handed it to Louis.

"_Dumbledore's Giant Mistake_," he read aloud, with a leering grin. "Sounds juicy."

"Draco's quoted in it," revealed Tracey Davies.

"'I was attacked by a hippogriff, and my friend Vincent Crabbe got a bad bite off a flabberworm'," quoted Louis. "You've got your fifteen minutes of fame, haven't you?"

Max read over his shoulder, "I knew those Blast-Ended Skrewts weren't naturally bred."

"Let me see," Corvus held out his hand. Veronique cuddled tightly against him to read along with him. It was difficult to concentrate for a moment. But he got through the article fast enough.

"A giant? Is 'at not illegal? It is very dangerous," she said, concerned.

"His qualifications to teach are questionable, but not because he's half-giant," said Daphne. "Being half-giant just makes him abnormally _big_ as well as stupid."

Blaise Zabini chuckled.

"I'd always thought Hagrid just swallowed a bottle of Skele-Gro when he was young," said Malfoy. Pansy and Tracey Davies giggled obnoxiously.

"Whatever, his enormous shadow isn't ever going to be cast on Hogwarts grounds again anyway," said Zabini matter-of-factly. And this time it was Daphne who giggled.

**X  
X**

After their goodbyes to their French girlfriends, Louis and Corvus were left in a blissful state but that was quickly squashed in Defense Against the Dark Arts. They came into the classroom half a minute before Moody shut the door. He hobbled to the front of the classroom and announced the lesson plan for the day.

"Non-verbal spells."

Several people in the classroom looked around, wondering if this was a joke. Brazda raised her hand. "We aren't supposed to do those until next year, sir."

"What is it Brazda? Do you want to review jinxes and hexes?" he growled with a twisted grin. "Or do you want to move onto to one of the most important lessons of your life? Raise of hands, who can tell me why learning how to cast non-verbal spells could save your life?"

Max raised his hand and was called upon, "You have the advantage, your opponent won't have any warning about what kind of magic you're going to throw at them."

"Exactly, Love – you have the upper hand. But that doesn't mean defending yourself against non-verbal spells is futile," he told them. "The key is _constant vigilance!_ Now, everyone pair off."

The class hesitated. Most people looked to their neighbors anxiously.

"Is he serious?" hissed Louis. "Is this even legal? It feels illegal, we're all underage!"

"Come on! At your feet, stop wasting time sweating there," Moody growled. People reluctantly got to their feet and paired off. Corvus went with Louis. His choice in Louis over Max was simple, he was afraid Max would actually manage to beat him at the exercise. Nonverbal spells came down to mental discipline.

"Think back now," Moody paced through the lines of students. "What was the very first spell they taught you here in Hogwarts?"

Again there was a pause. Everyone probably thought Moody was placing a trap of some sort. Finally Corvus decided someone needed to speak up, it might as well be him.

"_Wingardium Leviosa_."

"That's right," he nodded. "And today it's going to be the first non-verbal spell you'll be taught."

Moody had each pair take out a quill. One person held it in their open palm while the other tried levitating it. Louis went first, and immediately Corvus knew his partner wasn't going to out shine him. By the looks of it Louis was only succeeding at making his lips grow thin and his eyes bulging out.

Corvus looked around, saw that many people looked constipated and red in the face. Some were probably confusing concentration with not breathing.

"Oh Mara! You did it!" squealed Milvina Fox. Her pink bubble-gum quill was floating a good three inches off her hand. But as soon as she cheered, Brazda lost concentration and the quill dropped to the floor.

Brazda wasn't the only one making headway either. Max got his quill nearly a foot into the air, both him and Anwar were watching in awe. But what was most shocking was seeing Petzold successfully levitating his quill too. When Moody passed him he gave him an approving nod. Petzold never looked so smug.

"Alright, let's trade," ordered Moody. Corvus was happy to give it a go; he had to prove he was at least as capable as Petzold. Taking a deep breath, he first studied the quill. He watched how it sat upon Louis's palm. He imagined its weight. He imagined he felt the magic stirring in his wand. It would only take a split second for him to lift the quill into the air. He knew he had the power. He just had to do it… he just had to believe he could do it…

The quill silently quivered and rose into the air.

**X  
X**

Defense Against the Darks Arts had been a challenge, but it was nothing compared to his last class of the day – Muggle Studies. His mates were gracious enough to walk him to class after Charms, all the while Louis tried to keep his moral up.

"No matter what she says, remember – you didn't know it was a proper date," he repeated as they round the last corner. "Never lose sight of that, or else you've proper lost, you have."

"What if she won't speak to me?"

"Even better!"

"Marietta's not like that or what," said Max. He didn't sound so sure though. "She'll listen to you."

"Act like there's no problem and eventually there won't be a problem," Louis told him. "That's what Claire always says. And Claude."

"Two very reliable sources," muttered Anwar, amused. Out of the Vaisey family, Claire and Claude always had the most drama in the romantic department. Corvus grimaced as they got to the door. He'd have to see to this alone now.

Louis gave him a pat on the back before they left for their Care of Magical Creatures class. Most of the class was already inside, including Marietta. She sat in her regular place at the front of the class.

The seat next to her, the seat he usually sat at, was empty. Chatter in the classroom dimmed when he entered and she looked at him in the doorway. Cormac McLaggen nudged his mates to check out the awkward tension. Katie Bell and Leanne exchanged whispers.

Marietta's complexion was pale. Obviously she was recovering still. She looked exhausted and for a moment she looked sad at the sight of him. But she quickly put on a smile, it was small, very small, but it was something. It made it easier to breath for Corvus. It took it as an invitation to sit down beside her.

"Hey, Marietta," he greeted politely. He couldn't remember how he behaved before when interacting with her. Surely he was nice and polite… "How are you feeling?"

"Fine," she told him and opened up her notebook. She immediately started to act as if she was revising. Corvus wondered if he should interrupt, mostly because he knew it was fake, but then he thought – maybe she doesn't want to talk about it.

_It would be incredibly painful if we _did_ talk about it,_ he admitted privately. She knew Cho Chang had already yelled at him for it. Was that enough?

"Marietta," he whispered as he leaned closer to her. He didn't need the Gryffindors listening in on this. "About what happened – I'm sorry. I didn't think we were -"

"Yeah, I know," she interrupted swiftly. Her face was turning a little red. "I get it. It's fine."

"Really?"

"Yes," she smiled, though it resembled a grimace more. She didn't maintain eye-contact for long, she went straight back to reading. Corvus sat back, confused and unconvinced by it all. Cho Chang tore him apart in front of _everyone_ and Marietta didn't raise her voice an octave.

_Maybe she doesn't want to talk about it?_ The profound thought dawned on him. _It would be incredibly painful to go through it together, wouldn't it? _

It still didn't make him feel better about himself or what he'd done.

**X  
X**

Though it was still painfully chilly, the snow was starting to melt by mid January when they had their first Hogsmeade trip of the new year. Corvus looked forward to enjoying the day with his girlfriend, but first he had to attend to business. It was Daphne and his turn to meet Dung at Hog's Head. Veronique, Rebecca and Louis were going to meet him in the Three Broomsticks later.

"Things with you and Veronique seem to be going well," Daphne commented as they got off High Street. The snow was turning to slush on the roads.

"So far so good."

"What about when she leaves? Because you know at the end of the year they'll all going back to France."

"France isn't that far away, is it?"

"I guess not – so it would be worth it? With the distance and all?"

Corvus frowned. This wasn't exactly small talk. "I don't know. I haven't thought that long ahead, Daphne."

"Oh right, makes sense."

They got inside of the dank pub. The crowd was larger than usual since the Triwizard Tournament had been announced in the papers. Corvus looked around for Dung, he usually stood at the corner of the bar in his black balaclava. He wasn't there.

"We're only two minutes early," he said as he stared at his pocket watch. "He's never not here when we arrive."

"Corvus," she whispered, tugging on his sleeve, "That man's staring at us."

He followed her eyes to a man sitting alone at a table. He was indeed staring at them. Actually he was staring just at Corvus. The man wore a black hood, shadowing his face but Corvus could see some of his features. His complexion was waxy and hallow, Corvus was reminded of how Sirius looked last year when he'd broken out of Azkaban. But this man's face was crooked, like his nose had been broken. Corvus couldn't see his eyes.

"Let's wait outside for Dung," suggested Daphne. Corvus nodded and followed her out. "Did you recognize him?"

"No. I don't think so." There had been _something_ familiar about him.

"It felt like a set-up, didn't it?"

"Yeah, let's go. We'll find out what happened to Dung later."

Trying to be discreet, they backed out of the pub. Corvus had his head bowed, eyes cast downwards.

"Corvus?"

His mother was standing an inch in front of them. She'd been entering the pub as they were exiting. She wore her thick travel's cloak with a green scarf and gloves. She pushed her blue-rimmed glasses back up the bridge of her thin nose. "What are you two doing here?"

"They have cheap Butterbeer," he sprouted a lie effortlessly. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm here to meet one of your professors," she informed him. She wore a faint smirk as she glanced at both of them. "I'm sorry, I've forgotten your name dear."

"It's Daphne," he answered for her. "Who are you meeting?"

"Relax," she told him as she slipped off her gloves. "I'm meeting with Moody, like I told you, remember?"

"Oh, right."

"We probably should get going," said Daphne, timidly. "Our friends are waiting for us, aren't they?"

Corvus nodded," Yeah."

"Alright then, maybe I'll come find you later," his mother said. "Write me, Corvy, sooner rather than later."

"I will, bye mom," he kissed her on the cheek and bravely looked back into the pub as he left through the door. The man who had been staring at him was gone.

* * *

...

...

Okay so I hope the edits I've made to this chapter and the last one were improvements. Next chapter is going to be pretty fun! If I say so myself, most of it's already written - I'd written it like a year ago! It's one of those chapters that follow the events of the book to the T, nearly. Next chapter will include: Leandra and Moody speaking privately... Leandra leaving to do some hands-on investigating herself... progression in Animagi... Corvus and Potter coming to a truce of a sorts...


	23. Breakthroughs

**Breakthroughs**

"Do you know what they're going to talk about?"

"A little."

Corvus took a deep breath to collect himself outside the Hog's Head. It's strange his mother didn't tell him she was coming to Hogsmeade for a visit. He jumped to the conclusion that it must be about something very important, probably about Métis or Potter.

"I'd be a nervous wreck if my father came in to speak to one of my professors," laughed Daphne.

"It's nothing about me. Moody and my mum used to… work together, they're catching up probably."

"Oh."

He wasn't sure if Daphne's response meant she understood what 'work' Moody and his mother had done together or if she was simply giving him space. He was grateful either way. He took his pocket-watch out to check the time. It was now a minute past the time they should've met with Dung.

"_Psst!"_

Daphne flinched at the sudden hiss. They looked around and at the side of inn, leading into the back alley, was Dung, in his usual black balaclava. Both of them sighed with relief.

"Tad crowd'd in 'ere," said Dung, gesturing to the inn. They walked further in the backalley, out of sight from the pub's entrance. "Think I saw yer mum, Corv."

"You did," he confirmed. He felt edgy and wondered if they should reschedule the swap.

"No point in stalling," said Daphne assertively, "Do you have what we want, for the price we agreed, or not, Dung?"

"Huh – huh the price, I 'adn't remember us sayin' an exact number, a ball-park more like…"

"Lets hear it then," drawled Corvus, smirking faintly.

**X  
X**

Leandra took a seat at a table. She never frequented Hog's Head when she attended Hogwarts. There had been talk of how dodgy it was. Some people went to show off how brave they were and others went in hopes they'd get served Firewhiskey. For Leandra it always sounded like a cheap place, and she fancied herself too refined for it.

Moody suggested they meet there. Rita Skeeter was seen too often lingering by the Three Broomsticks Inn. She wouldn't order anything to drink, because judging from other tables nearby; she didn't trust the cleanliness of the glasses. She sat back and looked around. A few people seemed to recognize her, including the bartender. This didn't please her. At least at the Three Broomsticks Inn she could blend into a crowd. But she trusted Moody, if he said it was a good place to meet than so be it. There weren't many people in the pub anyway.

Moody came in only three minutes after her. His peg leg knocked on the floorboards, calling attention to himself. But once people made eye contact with Moody they were quick to mind their own business. Only the bartender didn't look skittish of him, he looked annoyed by him.

"Professor Moody," she greeted with a smile. "Long time no see."

"Same goes for your cousin, I'm guessing," he growled as he sat down across from her.

"I'm starting to think she's gone for good," she told him. "I just wish I knew why."

"Accident?"

"An accident that doesn't leave a trail? Come now." Moody was silent, staring at her with her normal eye. Actually it felt more like a glare. She dropped her smile. "What are you thinking Mad-Eye?"

"Wonderin' why you haven't gone out looking for her yourself," he huffed. His magical eye swiveled to stare at her as he brought his flask to his lips.

"I suggested that I go after her, remember? _You _said it had to be done through the Ministry," she leaned forward, whispering.

"You forget, lass, things constantly change. So you have to constantly change your tactics." She sighed. A part of her wasn't even there to discuss Métis with him. A part of her wanted to tell him about the Horcrux. "There's enough reason for you to get involved, Leandra."

She bit her bottom lip. He was right. Time could be running out, there was no point in searching for Métis so remotely. Maybe she could find some clue Emmeline couldn't.

**X  
X**

The rest of the Salesmen were sitting at a table in the back of the Three Broomsticks Inn. It turned out that Veronique got bored waiting for Corvus, so she and Rebecca went shopping at Gladrags Wizardwear. Breises was at the post sending a few gifts to a long list of relatives, according to Max. Corvus never before realized how their group had accumulated so many tagalongs since the beginning of the school year.

"We've got to reevaluate our rendezvous places," he told them as he lit up a Tentette. "This Tournament is overcrowding our playground."

"Even at the Hog's Head?" asked Max, concerned.

Daphne nodded, "And I don't know who he was, but this bloke was definitely eying us."

"Bloody hell, no place is sacred anymore," said Anwar. Louis laughed.

"What about Jamal's place?" he suggested. "Your brother could do with a new friend, couldn't he?"

Anwar shook his head, "Jamal's already a centimeter away from pissing himself for the work he does with us. This will push him over the edge."

"Dung's liable to steal something from him too if left unattended," said Corvus, thoughtfully. They all murmured in agreement. "You can just tell."

"Trying to ruin someone else's life?" said a loud voice at a table up front. Corvus recognized the voice, it was Potter. He was speaking to Rita Skeeter. The reporter was wearing banana-yellow robes today. Her long nails were painted shocking pink and her paunchy photographer accompanied her.

"Harry!" she said, beaming. "How lovely! Why don't you come and join –"

"I wouldn't come near you with a ten-foot broomstick," said Potter furiously.

"Is it just me, or is Potter extra-sensitive this year?" pondered Louis.

"I imagined since he was picked as the forth champion," sneered Anwar, "He's been carrying around extra weight, what with his head swelling to a larger size." They snickered.

"At least he doesn't have to worry about carrying around brains," said Max with his half-smirk. Corvus realized again how their group had changed, they didn't _nearly_ mock other people as much as they used to together.

"Who care if he's half-giant?" shouted Potter, silencing their conversation. "There's nothing wrong with him!"

Their table wasn't the only one to go silent. The whole pub had gone very quiet. Madam Rosmerta was staring over from behind the bar, apparently oblivious of the fact that the flagon she was filling with mead was overflowing.

Rita Skeeter's smile flickered very slightly, but she hitched it back almost at once. She snapped open her crocodile-skin handbag, pulled out her Quick-Quotes Quill and asked Potter for an interview about Hagrid. Granger promptly ushered Potter out of the pub to avoid any more embarrassing scenes.

"It's hard to remember Granger from the Yule Ball," said Louis, resting his chin in his hand as he stared after her. "Sure she's under that bushy mane of hair somewhere though."

"Let's hope that girl hasn't choked on a fur ball yet," grinned Corvus.

When Veronique and Rebecca returned, they begged Louis and him to take them to Madam Puddifoot's. Apparently they'd past by there and were taken by how cute it looked inside. Corvus only knew of the teashop from what Louis's sisters said about it. Claire loved it, described it as quaint. Anna said it was suffocating to be in there.

"_C'est belle!"_ cheered Rebecca as they stepped in. A bell over the door announced their arrival. It was a very small teashop. It felt rather hot and steamy, which was nice compared to the chill outside, but it was also very cramped. So far Corvus was leaning towards Anna's review of the place.

Corvus looked around, spotting many familiar couples from school. Actually, all the customers were couples. There were no more than two people at every small, round gaudy table. The place was decorated as if it had cheesy couples in mind too. It was tacky and frilly. Every table was decorated with lacy napkins and china sugar bowls.

Because the tables were too small to fit more than two people, the four of them had to split up. Luckily they were able to grab two tables next to each other.

"What can I get you, m'dears?" said Madam Puddifoot, a very stout woman with a shiny black bun. She was squeezing between their tables with great difficulty.

"_Café au lait_," ordered Veronique promptly. Corvus seconded that order for himself. But their orders hadn't even arrived before they digressed into kissing. He couldn't even remember what led to it. One second they're talking about what they wanted to do after graduating and the next second they're making out.

He wasn't complaining though. Much later, though it felt sooner, they poured out of Madam Puddifoot's. The girls were giggling at something Louis said in French. It was very convenient to have him around, because he knew the language well enough to tell complicated and amusing stories properly. Corvus's stories got lost in translation and the only laughs he got were for pity's sake. He lit up a Tentette while Louis did his thing.

A bird called out from above. Perched on a lamppost was a peregrine falcon with a copper underside. Corvus immediately felt his face go red.

"You guys go ahead," he told them, constantly glancing up at the falcon. "I forgot, I was supposed to meet… Brazda. About Prefect stuff, so she's probably well vexed I'm late."

"Merlin bless you," smirked Louis, patting him on the back before strutting off with the girls.

The falcon screeched again. He imagined she was laughing at him. She then hopped off the post and flew to an alley off Main Street, behind a large garbage bin. Corvus followed, thinking of how best to explain why he never mentioned his new girlfriend.

Leandra was crouching behind the garbage bin when Corvus came round. She was in a laughing fit too. "Oh Corvy – don't be embarrassed," she exclaimed once she'd gotten control of herself. "I'm just surprised is all – I never thought I'd spawn a Casanova!"

"I'm not a Casa – I'm not anything," he grumbled. His mother stood up finally.

"I could've _sworn_ I'd just run into you earlier on another date, with Daphne?"

"Stop it, that wasn't a date," he glared at her. This day had started off so simple. "We were looking for a friend of ours, who we had business with."

Leandra gave him a knowing look, "Business? Really? Do tell."

"How'd your chat with professor Moody go?"

Her grin faded, "As well as you could hope. I've come away from it with a plan – it's going to involve some traveling for me. I'm going to be gone for a while."

"Where are you going? What for?"

"Métis," she replied. "It's time I take a crack at finding her."

Corvus shifted, "By yourself?"

"I'm thinking about bringing Coco."

"I think you should," he told her firmly. Truthfully he didn't know if he trusted Coco's ability to protect his mother against You-Know-Who. Not that his mother was going hunting for You-Know-Who, but it was a possibility.

"We think Métis might be dead," she explained. "But she must've left behind _something_. You can't just disappear – I mean _I _tried that, only worked for what? Thirteen years?"

She laughed at her own joke. Corvus smiled weakly. At least he was trying, she was grateful for that. Leandra gently brushed back his hair from his eyes.

"So, what's her name?"

"Veronique, she goes to Beauxbatons."

"Sirius is going to love hearing that you have yourself a French girlfriend," she told him. Corvus rolled his eyes but chuckled this time.

"You can't even take him with you? Surely he can be useful," he said.

"Harry needs him more. He has to be kept safe." Corvus wanted to demand _why_. Why was Potter's safety number one priority for everyone? He found it hard to believe that Potter was the key to preventing You-Know-Who's return. "Which reminds me, how's he coming along for the second task?"

Corvus hesitated. His mother wouldn't like hearing he _still_ wasn't helping Potter prepare for his tasks, even if he explained Potter declined his offer. Especially since Corvus didn't even try to convince him. "It's coming along. A lot left to do though."

She smiled, "I'm proud of you, Corvy."

**X  
X**

"Has Krum mentioned anything about what the Second Task might entail?" Corvus asked Breises later at Hogwarts. They were playing a game of Gobstones in the Great Hall after dinner. Anwar and her were currently neck-to-neck on the score sheets.

"There will be swimming, I'm thinking," she told him. Her brow was deeply frowned as she studied the game. "He swims a lot in the Great Lake. But he won't share his strategy with us, like he doesn't need our help."

"Swimming? It's rather cold for that, isn't it?"

"The Tasks aren't supposed to be easy," reminded Max. While his girlfriend tried beating Anwar at Gobstones, he had his Charms textbook opened and was revising. Every fifth year was quickly beginning to study for their OWLs. Corvus was behind. He was sure he'd manage to catch up though.

"They knew what they were signing up for," remarked Anwar.

"So he's cracked the clue in that egg?"

She nodded.

"And he's not that bright, right?"

She nodded again. That was reassuring. Surely Potter had managed to figure it out too then. Mary Ford and Stephen Moore said Cedric was busy preparing for the Second Task too. He hadn't heard anything about Potter's progress.

Veronique, Rebecca and Louis were speaking in French together, too fast for him to follow along. So Corvus could stare blankly at Anwar and Breises's match, letting his mind wander about what the Second Task might hold for the Champions. If there was swimming involved, he figured there might be portions involving being underwater for duration. Perhaps it was an obstacle course that included swimming?

"I'm going to go… do homework," he announced. Veronique turned in her seat to look at him, slightly crestfallen for a moment. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Okay," she smiled and kissed him goodbye. Corvus got up.

"Are you going back to the commons?" asked Max.

"Yeah."

"I'll go with you," he said, closing up his books. Breises didn't look happy at being abandoned. She was beginning to lose. "I can't concentrate here."

"Very well," she said tersely. She let him kiss her on the cheek, but it was plain to see that she wasn't happy with him leaving so early.

"Are there potions that can help you survive underwater?" he asked him as they entered the school's dungeons. Max pondered the question. Corvus was lucky his friend was leaving with him, it saved him from wasting time trying to look up these things on his own.

"There are some. They're very advanced," he told him. "Their effects are short lived too, the ones I know of anyway. I bet there are more though, I'd take a look through the library. Why'd you want to know?"

"No reason."

"We need to start up our training again," he changed subjects. "What about this week?"

"Sure, I've got patrol Thursday night, we can do it then," he said. "If I was to go to the library for these underwater potions, what section would they be in?"

Max frowned at him, "Seriously, why'd you want to know this?"

Corvus shrugged, calmly searching his mind for an appropriate lie. "It's for an essay, for Muggle Studies. I want to describe what forms of magic could replace Muggle methods for scuba diving."

Max's azure eyes narrowed darkly. "I really wished wizards would stop coming up with their own solutions to Muggle stuffs. Give it a rest, we've managed to live comfortably with our _handicap._"

He raised an eyebrow. "Where's this coming from?"

"No where."

"Rubbish."

"It's just… I've been hanging out a lot with Breises and her Durmstrang mates," he explained quietly. "Sometimes they go on about this stuff. It's not her," he added quickly when he noticed the look on Corvus's face, "Honest."

"But she talks about it?" They came to the stonewall hiding their common room. Corvus quickly spoke the password, "_Asclepius._"

"She's not the one who brings it up. Compared to the rest of them, she's very open-minded. They're just not used to being around... _them_," he said through the side of his mouth. "They don't mean to be offensive. Besides, it's not like I'm not used to it here at Hogwarts."

"If she's so open-minded, she should be able to come up with more topics for discussions," he retorted. Max gave him a sharp look but didn't say anything more on the matter. In fact, he didn't speak more than five sentences to Corvus for the rest of the evening.

**X  
X**

"Ford," Corvus caught up with Mary Ford before dinner on Thursday. They were both on final patrol that night, and he had to communicate to her that she was _not_ to get in his way.

"Hey, Corvus," she smiled at him. "What's up?"

"I don't know how you usually do your patrols," he started politely, "But I like to have a system – makes things more efficient. What we'll do is split up the different levels in the castle."

"Oh that does sound like a good idea," she said. "Honestly, it's so _boring_ walking through every corridor. Completely knackers me out."

"Agreed – so I'll take the fifth floor up, including the Astronomy tower and you have the fourth floor down, including the dungeons. And I'll sign us out, since I've got the fifth floor and all. Sounds good?"

"Yeah," she nodded. "Just make sure you sign us out, Holly and Eric are real sticklers about that. See you later!"

He hoped Ford was as agreeable as she seemed about this plan. If so, then he thought about arranging his Prefect duties in the future so he could be paired with her. Brazda was far too temperamental.

It felt like it had been ages since their last Animagi session, until they both picked up their wands. They immediately recalled all their progress, they immediately picked up where they left off and it didn't feel like they missed a beat. They turned each other into a series of animals; first a rabbit, then a dog, then a mountain lion and finally into a bear. Privately, Corvus felt his transfigurations were more accurate than Max's.

"Blimey, it gives me the itch to turn someone into a boar or something – just for the hell of it. Like Moody did to Malfoy," grinned Corvus, his grey eyes gleaming.

"We haven't been paying Pretzel much attention," he reminded. They snickered, but Max got serious again. "Reckon we can start brewing the potion for this."

An Animagus will receive their Animagus form when they drink a special Animagi potion and performs the total self-transfiguration. The potion was highly complicated, Corvus would entirely following Max's lead on the brewing of it.

"We should get the ingredients through Dung," determined Corvus. "The others would get nosy if we went through Daphne."

"True."

Abruptly, a thought crossed Corvus's mind. He glanced up at the ceiling, trying to judge its height. "Hold still," he told Max. His friend's dark eyebrows creased, curious. Corvus aimed his wand at him, square between the eyes. "_Elephas Loxodonta!" _

All Corvus saw of Max before the flash of violet light were his azure eyes widening with shock at what he was doing. Then Max was gone, and in his place was a baby elephant. The elephant called out with its trunk and flapped its ears. Corvus found it all very hilarious and doubled over with laughter. It took him several minutes to calm down enough to change him back.

"_That_ felt strange," he told him, panting and rubbing his lower stomach. During every transfiguration, the subject being changed feels the transfiguration most in their vital organs. Bones and skin tingle, but the organs feel wobbly from all the shrinking, stretching, enlargements… it's unpleasant and it can lead to things like heart failure. Still, it was so much fun.

**X  
X**

Two more hours went, not once did Mary Ford infringe on his space. Corvus trusted that Max could get back to the dungeons without getting caught, so he tiredly dragged his feet to the fifth floor. _"Pine-fresh_," he yawned at the statue of Boris the Bewildered to enter the Prefect bathroom. Max had turned him into a baby elephant a few times; his legs were still quite sore from it.

" – and then, of course, she went to the Ministry of Magic to stop me stalking her, so I had to come back here and live in my toilet." The glumly ghost of Moaning Myrtle was sitting cross legged on top of one of the taps and in the bath was Harry Potter.

Shocked, Corvus let out a single laugh. Potter splashed about as he turned in his bubble bath to stare bewilderedly at him.

"Oh no, it's _him_," snarled Myrtle. Corvus ignored her though, his eyes still delightfully eating up the look on Potter's face.

"Midnight dips with Myrtle, Potter? Well I guess all the champions have their ways of unwinding," he sneered. Potter went furiously red. Myrtle looked very pleased at being caught.

"Go away you," she said haughtily, "You're not wanted here."

"Disturbing something special? Something beautiful, even?"

"Go ahead and have your laugh," said Potter through gritted teeth.

"My mind's actually too blown away by this," he told him. "How'd you get in here?"

Potter had a determined look on his face. He wasn't going to tell.

"How many points do you reckon I should dock for you breaking in here?" Corvus went over to the time-sheet to mark himself out. "I'm debating between thirty and thrity-five points."

"Do whatever you like."

"You're right, I _can _do whatever I like. I should aim higher."

"Leave him alone! It was that other boy who told him to come here," said Myrtle shrilly.

"Another _boy_ is involved?" he leered. "Imagine what stories Rita Skeeter could spin with _that_."

Glowering at him, he explained, begrudged, "Cedric, he told me to come here to help figure out my egg. I just finished solving it."

"I hope he knows that this entire place will have to be sterilized now that you've been stewing in here." It was interesting to hear Cedric was involved with anything remotely resembling cheating though.

"Guess you'll have to tell him," he said. He moved forward slightly, "I'm getting out now, so… shut your eyes, will you, or turn around."

Corvus didn't need to be told twice. He turned on his heel.

"Shut your eyes again, Myrtle," he heard Potter tell her. Corvus listened as he climbed out of the water. He dried himself and pulled on his pajamas and dressing gown again.

"Will you come and visit me in my bathroom again sometime?" asked Myrtle, mournfully, as Potter picked up his Invisibility Cloak. Corvus gave Potter a funny look, which he ignored.

"Er… I'll try. See you later. Thanks for your help."

"Bye, bye," she said gloomily before zooming up the tap.

"Did she mention if she visits the Prefects' bathroom often?" he asked Potter as he pulled out the Marauder's Map.

Corvus instinctively stepped forward. He knew everything about that map, and he'd always wanted a go at it. He especially wanted to see whether the outhouse passage was on it.

Potter turned his body so to block Corvus view of it though. He shot the Slytherin a look of deep mistrust.

"Potter, I'm willing to keep the points below twenty if you let me have a look."

"Yeah right."

"Okay forget the points. I'll personally escort you back to the Gryffindor Tower, so you won't have to sneak about," Corvus grinned. "Really, I only want a peak for a few seconds. Let's not be greedy."

"I don't need you to walk me anyway," he told him pointedly as he started to put his Invisibility Cloak over himself. With Potter half-visible, Corvus got a little desperate.

"How bout I help you with your second task? It's got nothing to do with taking bets either," he added quickly when he saw the look Potter gave him. "Honest. Whatever advice you need… I'm quite clever, Potter. I'm bloody go at spells too. It would be like having _two _Grangers helping you."

"I don't need your help."

"Sirius wants me to help you," he invented. He was fairly sure, however, that Sirius would want Corvus helping Potter.

Dropping Sirius's name had a desired effect. Potter let his guard down an inch, "He mentioned that."

"Exactly, we're on the same side. Aren't we?"

"I'm not letting you hold it," he told him as he opened the map. Corvus's eyes sparkled eagerly. He held his hands a few inches above it as he peered over it. The outhouse passage wasn't shown on the first floor down the hall from McGonagall's office. Knowing that he had indeed found a passage unchartered by the Marauders made him feel very good about himself. _It must have appeared after their time…_ _should've known Hogwarts wasn't that easy to crack, not for anyone. _

"Bartemius Crouch?" Potter said aloud, pointing to a single dot flitting around a room in the bottom left-hand corner- Snape's office. Corvus stared at the dot, brow wrinkled. "I'm going to see what he's up to."

"I'll go with."

"What?"

"Bath bubbles clogging your ears, Potter? I said I'm coming with." His mother would crucify him if she heard he let Potter investigate this alone. "I've seen you fit all your friends underneath that Cloak, you can share it with me now."

"No, it's best if I go by my-"

"Oh for Merlin's sake, Potter, think about it. This is weird, Crouch doesn't belong here and it's probably connected to all the other weird stuff that's been happening to you," he snapped at him. "Chasing after anyone alone, Potter, doesn't sound like a smart move for you. So unless you want to waste time gathering up Granger or Weasley, I say you let me come with you."

Potter hesitated, thinking and scowling at Corvus. Thankfully he didn't waste too long to put his pride aside. He told Corvus to stand beside him as he threw the cloak over them. Corvus had to crouch a little.

They came out into the dark corridor outside the bathroom. They walked down the stairs as quietly as possible, though the faces in some of the portraits turned curiously at the squeak of a floorboard and the rustling of their robes. Potter gestured that they creep along the corridor below and push aside a tapestry about halfway along and proceed down a narrow staircase, a short cut that would take them down two floors.

"Let me hold the map, you've got too much in your arms as it is," Corvus whispered as he tried taking the map again. Potter pulled away.

"No, take the egg then."

"The egg belongs to a Champion, your responsibility Potter. The map on the other hand…"

"Stop, I'm not giving it to you," he hissed.

"You're ridiculous you know that? Watch your step –"

It was too late. Potter's leg sank through the trick step that he forgot to jump. Corvus stopped in time but Potter gave an ungainly wobble. The golden egg, damp from the bath, slipped from under his arm. He lurched forward, pulling the Cloak off Corvus to try and catch the egg again. The egg however fell down the long staircase with a bang as loud as a bass drum on every step. Corvus went rigid, knowing Filch and Mrs. Norris, somewhere, were alerted of their whereabouts. The Cloak slipped off Potter, and when he snatched at that the map fluttered out of his hand and slid down six stairs.

The golden egg fell through the tapestry at the bottom of the staircase and burst open, wailing loudly. Corvus instinctively took a wide step back up the staircase, intent on bolting for it, but then he remembered Potter, stuck.

"PEEVES!"

It was Filch. Corvus jumped back down to crouch beside Potter and pulled the Cloak over them both. His heart was beating faster than it had in ages. Corvus had perfected the art of evading Filch years ago. He'd almost forgotten what it was like to be cornered.

They could hear his shuffling footsteps approaching rapidly and his wheezy voice rose in fury. "What's this racket? Wake up the whole castle, will you? I have you, Peeves, I'll have you, you'll… and what is this?"

Filch had stopped. There was a clink of metal on metal, and the wailing stopped. Filch had found the egg. At any moment, Filch could pull the tapestry aside, searching for Peeves and if he came up the stairs he would spot the Marauder's Map. Corvus took out his wand.

_Accio Map. Accio Map_, he chanted in his mind, his eyes fiercely centered on the map. Moody had been right, Non-Verbal Spells were necessary way before their sixth year. _ACCIO MAP! _

The map quivered, but it remained grounded.

"Egg?" Filch said quietly at the foot of the stairs. "My sweet! This is a Triwizard clue! This belongs to a school champion! PEEVES! You've been stealing!"

Corvus felt violently ill when Filch ripped back the tapestry, and his bulging, pale eyes stared up the dark staircase. He nearly forgot he was invisible.

"Hiding are you?" he said softly. "I'm coming to get you, Peeves… Dumbledore'll have you out of here for this, you filthy pilfering poltergeist…" Filch started to climb the stairs, scrawny Mrs. Norris at his heels. Her lamp-like eyes were directly upon Potter and Corvus. The Slytherin wondered if Invisibility Cloaks worked on cats. They watched as Filch drew closer, Corvus tried to help Potter as he desperately tried to pull his trapped leg free, but it merely sank a few more inches. Filch was going to spot the map or walk right into them…

"Filch? What's going on?"

Corvus's breath got caught in his chest when he saw Snape at the foot of the stairs. He was wearing a long grey nightshirt and he looked livid. "It's Peeves, Professor," Filch whispered malevolently. "He threw this egg down the stairs."

Snape climbed the stairs quickly and stopped beside Filch. "Peeves? But Peeves couldn't get into my office…"

"This egg was in your office, Professor?"

"Of course not, I heard banging and wailing-"

"Yes, Professor, that was the egg-"

"-I was coming to investigate-"

"- Peeves threw it, Professor-"

"-and when I passed my office, I saw that the torches lit and a cupboard door was ajar! Somebody has been searching it!"

"But Peeves couldn't-"

"I know he couldn't Filch! I seal my office with a spell none but a wizard could break!" Snape looked up the stairs, straight through them, and then down into the corridor below. He told Filch he wanted him to help search for the intruder with him. Filch was still stuck on catching Peeves though. Snape didn't want to hear it, "I don't give a damn about that wretched poltergeist, it's my office that's-"

_Clunk. Clunk. _

Snape stopped talking very abruptly. He and Filch both looked down at the foot of the stairs. Corvus bit his lower lip. This was getting worse. Mad-Eye Moody limped into sight through the narrow gap between Snape and Filch's heads. He was wearing his old traveling cloak over his nightshirt, and leaning on his staff as usual.

"Pajama party, is it?" he growled up the stairs.

"Professor Snape and I heard noises, professor," said Filch at once. "Peeves the poltergeist, throwing things around as usual – and then Professor Snape discovered that someone had broken into his off –"

"Shut up!" Snape hissed at Filch.

Moody took a step closer to the foot of the stairs. Moody's magical eye traveled over Snape, and then, unmistakably, onto Corvus and Potter. Corvus's heart gave a horrible jolt, like he'd been transfigured into an elephant again. Moody could see through Invisibility Cloaks.

Moody's lop-sided gash of a mouth opened in surprise, but he closed his mouth and turned his blue eye upon Snape again. "Did I hear that correctly, Snape? Someone broke into your office?"

"It is unimportant," said Snape coldly.

"On the contrary," growled Moody. "It is very important. Who'd want to break into your office?"

"A student, I daresay." You could see a vein flickering horribly on Snape's greasy temple. "It has happened before. Potion ingredients have gone missing from my private store cupboard.. students attempting illicit mixtures no doubt…"

"Reckon they were after potion ingredients, eh? Not hiding anything else in your office, are you?"

"You know I'm not hiding anything," he said in a low and dangerous voice, "as you've searched my office pretty thoroughly yourself."

Moody's face twisted into a smile. "Auror's privilege, Snape. Dumbledore told me to keep an eye –"

"Dumbledore happens to trust me," said Snape, through clenched teeth. "I refuse to believe that he gave you orders to search my office!"

"'Course Dumbledore trusts you," growled Moody. "He's a trusting man, isn't he? Believes in second chances. But me – I say there are that don't come off, Snape. Spots that never come off, d'you know what I mean?"

Snape suddenly did something very strange. He seized his left forearm convulsively with his right hand, as though something on it had hurt him.

Moody laughed, "Get back to bed, Snape."

"You don't have the authority to send me anywhere!" Snape hissed, letting go of his arm as though he was angry with himself. "I have as much right to prowl this school after dark as you do!"

"Prowl away," said Moody, but his voice was full of menace. "I look forward to meeting you in a dark corridor some time… you've dropped something by the way…"

With another sickening jolt, Corvus saw Moody point at the Marauder's Map, still laying on the staircase six steps below them. As Snape and Filch turned to look at it, Potter cleverly threw caution to the winds, he raised his arms under the Cloak and waved furiously at Moody to attract his attention, mouthing '_It's mine! Mine!'_

Snape had reached for it, recognition on his face –

"_Accio_ parchment!"

The map flew into the air, slipped through Snape's outstretched finger and soared down the stairs into Moody's hand.

"My mistake," said Moody, calmly. "It's mine – must've dropped it earlier."

But Snape's black eyes were darting from the Egg in Filch's arms to the map in Moody's hand. "Potter," he said quietly.

Corvus's eyes bulged. How'd he figure it out?

"What's that?" said Moody calmly, folding up the map and pocketing it.

"Potter!" Snape snarled and he actually turned from his head and stared right at the place where Corvus and Potter were, as though he could suddenly see them. "That egg is Potter's egg. That piece of parchment belongs to Potter. I have seen it before, I recognize it! Potter is here! Potter, in his Invisibility Cloak!"

Corvus held his breath fast. He should've left Potter when he had the chance. Why didn't he make a run for it?

"There's nothing there, Snape!" barked Moody. "But I'll be happy to tell the Headmaster how quickly your mind jumped to Harry Potter!"

"Meaning what?"

"Meaning that Dumbledore's very interested to know who's got it in for that boy! And so am I, Snape… very interested…"

"I merely thought… that if Potter was wandering around after hours again… it's an unfortunate habit of his… he should be stopped. For – for his own safety."

"Ah, I see," said Moody softly. "Got Potter's best interests at heart, have you?"

There was a pause. Snape and Moody were still staring at each other. Mrs. Norris gave a loud miaow, still perring around Filch's legs. "I think I will go back to bed," said Snape curtly.

"Best idea you've had all night," said Moody. "Now, Filch, if you'll just give me that egg –"

"No!" wailed Filch, clutching the egg as though it was his first-born son. "Professor Moody, this is evidence of Peeves's treachery!"

"It's property of the champion he stole it from," said Moody. "Hand it over, now."

Snape swept downstairs and passed Moody without another word. Filch made a chirruping noise to Mrs. Norris to follow him away after he returned the Egg to Moody. "Never mind, my sweet… we'll see Dumbledore in the morning… tell him what Peeves was up to…"

A door slammed. The two boys were left staring down at Moody, who placed his staff at the bottom-most stair. He started to climb laboriously towards him, a dull _clunk_ on every other step.

"Close shave, lads," he muttered.

"Yeah… I – er … thanks," said Potter, weakly. Corvus could only nod, he was still speechless.

"What is this thing?" said Moody, drawing the map out of his pocket and unfolding it.

"Map of Hogwarts," said Potter.

"Merlin's beard," whispered Moody, staring at the map, his magical eye going haywire. "This … this is some map, Potter!"

"Isn't it?" muttered Corvus, eying it too. The Salesmen would be unstoppable with something like that.

"Yeah, it's… quite usefull," Potter said. Corvus frowned, wondering why Potter sounded so pained. He'd forgotten that the Gryffindor was stuck in the staircase. "Er – could someone help me –?"

"What?" said Moody. Corvus climbed to his feet. "Oh! Yes.. yes of course…"

But Corvus grabbed a hold of Potter arm first and pulled him free. Potter climbed onto the step above the trick step. Moody was still gazing at the map.

"Potter… you didn't happen, by any chance, to see who broke into Snape's office did you? On this map, I mean?"

"Er.. yeah, I did…" Potter admitted. "It was Mr. Crouch."

Moody's magical eye whizzed over the entire surface of the map. He looked suddenly alarmed.

"Crouch?" he said. "You're – you're sure, Potter?"

"Positive."

"You?" he asked Corvus. "Did you see it too, Black?"

"Yeah, sir," he said. He didn't like how alarmed Moody had become. "We were going to look into it."

"Well, he's not here any more," said Moody, his eye still whizzing over the map. "Crouch… that's very – very interesting…"

He said almost nothing for a minute, still staring at the map. This news meant something to Moody. Corvus wondered what it was, and if his mother would know anything about it too.

"Er… Professor Moody," Potter broke the silence, "Why you'd reckon Mr. Crouch wanted to look around Snape's office?"

His magical eye left the map and fixed, quivering, upon Potter. It was a penetrating glare, he was sizing Potter up, wondering whether to answer or not, or how much to tell him. _Or how best to lie_.

"Put it this way, lads," muttered Moody, finally, "They say old Mad-Eye's obsessed with catching Dark Wizards… but Mad-Eye's nothing – _nothing – _compared to Barty Crouch."

"Professor Moody?" Potter said again. "D'you think… could this have anything to do with… maybe Mr. Crouch think there's something going on…"

"Like what?" said Moody sharply.

Corvus glanced at Potter. How much would he dare say? If Potter talked too much, Moody could catch on that he had an outside source for information – Sirius.

"I don't know," muttered Potter, "odd stuff's been happening lately, hasn't it? It's been in the _Daily Prophet_… the Dark Mark at the World Cup, and the Death Eaters and Ascanius Stirling dying, everything…"

"You're a sharp boy, Potter," he said. His magical eye roved back to the map. "Crouch could be thinking along those lines. Very possible… there have been some funny rumors flying around lately – helped along by Rita Skeeter of course. It's making a lot of people nervous, I reckon." A grim smile twisted his lop-sided mouth. "Oh, if there's one thing I hate," he muttered more to himself than to them, and his magical eye was fixed on the bottom left-hand corner of the map, "It's a Death Eater who walked free…"

Corvus frowned, was Moody talking about Snape?

"Black, you're not on this," said Moody in a more businesslike tone. Corvus snapped out of his thoughts.

"I'm not?"

"It's only showing Potter and myself," he told him and looked at him. He shrugged.

"Must be faulty, it _is _old." Moody's magical eye looked him up and down quick, then swerved back down at the map.

"Potter, can I ask you a question? Can I borrow this?"

Corvus's eyebrow arched. He could imagine that Potter was probably very fond of that map – he certainly was up to sharing it a few minutes ago. But Moody was his professor, and a rather intimidating Auror.

"Oh… yeah, okay."

"Good boy," growled Moody. "I can make good use of this… this might be _exactly_ what I've been looking for… right, bed, lads, come on…"

* * *

...

...

...

Soooo that was a long chapter! PHew! It's over, now on to the next long one... Next chapter will include: Corvus finally helping Potter for his tasks, but not being nice about it... second task!... Moody and Corvus discuss Sal's Guys... Jeremy makes a fatal mistake... Breises learns something important about Max...

pls R&R!


	24. Pretzel's Big Mistake

A/N I've recently done some rewrites on chapter 14-20, I've explained why and what I rewrote in those chapters in my profile page. Please check it out! Some rewrites included more Daphne!

* * *

**Pretzel's Big Mistake **

The morning after, he forced himself to wake up an hour before sunrise. It was important he told his mother about Crouch's bizarre appearance on the Marauder's Map. Snape's behavior was curious too. His mother never spoke of her opinion on Snape, not really anyway, certainly never about his past as a Death Eater.

Max reminded him once of how many Death Eaters surrounded them in Slytherin alone. Perhaps he should investigate what the children of those Death Eaters knew about Snape and this growing conspiracy.

He only had a candle-lit at his desk to give him light while he wrote his letter. In the dim light he could see Jeremy's sleeping form, he hadn't fully drawn his emerald curtains round his four-post bed. Hadn't he heard somewhere that Jeremy hung around the Noble Serpent in Knockturn Alley during the summer?

True, they weren't on good terms, by any account, but Corvus knew the former-Salesman's weakness – his desire to be an elite pureblood. Two summers ago when news broke about Corvus's true parentage, Jeremy was one of the first to contact him extending his friendship as a fellow pureblood, claiming they were more alike than ever.

Then there was always Draco Malfoy. He'd most likely be easier to approach. Corvus's lip curled, he knew he'd after to seek information from both of them. Malfoy would be delighted to gloat about what he knew and Corvus didn't.

"Black," Moody called him at the end of their double Defense Against the Dark Arts later in the morning. "A word."

He was relieved, because he'd been thinking of ways to get a second alone with him all class. Everyone eyed Corvus, curious about what trouble he might be in. Once his classmates had disappeared, Moody ordered him to close the door.

"Quite the night," he growled as he took a drink from his hip flask. "I'm guessing it's sprung a lot of questions in your head."

"Yeah... I've actually started to wonder though, sir, there's probably people in our school who'd have insight into all this," he said before sharing his idea of drawing information out of Malfoy and Jeremy.

"Oh, I reckon you know more than either of them combined, lad. Petzold's family was never involved with Death Eaters and Malfoy's father wouldn't be so foolish to share anything important with his son. Draco likes running his mouth too much. But it was a good idea," he told him. "Tell me, Black, what do you think is happening?"

He stared at him. Did he really want him to say it? "I don't really know, but with how everyone's talking about it," he said tentatively, "It's like You-Know-Who's coming back or something."

"Do you believe it?"

"I can't imagine how'd it be possible, sir," he said. "He's supposed to be dead… my mum says there are rumors about him being alive, but how could that be?"

"He was immensely powerful, the Dark Lord. Some hailed him as the mightiest living wizard," he told him. His voice wasn't its usual gravelly tone. He spoke in a quiet voice, very paced. "And there's magic to guard you against mortal death. Very old and dangerous magic, not just any wizard can master it."

Corvus felt a shiver, though the windows were shut. It wasn't fear he felt ripple through him. It was an excitement, the kind he was familiar with. Like when he first got his wand, when he cast his first Stinging Hex.

A grim smile twisted Moody's lop-sided mouth, "Gettin' hooked, are ye, Black?"

Was it strange for him to be intrigued? Corvus was never shy about his desire for power. He was a driven person, he enjoyed competition and he enjoyed winning by his own rules. It made him a Slytherin.

_You-Know-Who was a Slytherin too_.

"Relax," muttered Moody. His voice had been low this entire conversation it felt. "Curiosity is a good trait for a student."

Corvus nodded. Just because his ears perked up at the mention of magic so great it could protect him from mortal death, doesn't mean he's made of the same stuff as You-Know-Who. He refused to believe that. But it was hard. He was the son of a Death Eater.

"Potter's figured out what he's got to do for the Second Task," growled Moody, mercifully changing subject. His voice sounded normal again. "Glad to hear you'll be helping him out this time."

"Oh, right," he said.

"Have any ideas?"

He actually didn't know what Potter had to do for his second task. He only knew it involved water, possibly. "I've got a few."

**X  
X**

He was really stepping out of his element, waiting to speak to Potter outside of professor Flitwick's classroom. He'd feigned an upset stomach to leave Muggle Studies early. As the fourth year Gryffindors filed out of their Charms class, they eyed Corvus suspiciously.

"Potter," he greeted curtly as they finally exited the classroom. He gestured that they follow him into an empty classroom down the corridor. "So… when will you need my help?"

"I don't reckon Harry needs _your_ help," said Weasley. He assumed Potter had filled them both in about what happened last night. "He's already beaten a full-grown dragon without it."

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but you weren't helping him prepare for that either, so by your logic, he doesn't need _you _around either, Weasley."

"I don't need both of you, if this is all you're going to be doing," said Potter. He quickly explained what the second task entailed. It was worse than Corvus had imagined. "I need to send Sirius a letter, about Crouch."

"Afterwards we should start researching at the library," said Granger.

Corvus grimaced, "Tonight?"

"Of course! Harry's already waited long enough to start working on this," she shot Potter a nasty look.

"Alright, I'll find you in the library," he told them. "Don't come looking for me, alright? I'll find you."

Tonight was the night the Salesmen were going to go over last week's numbers. Louis and Rebecca usually liked to hang out with him and Veronique afterwards, either to go on walks outside or play Exploding Snaps. Corvus had to immediately start thinking of plausible excuses to reject any invites from them.

As they huddled at their usual table in the back of the library, Corvus twirled his wand distractedly. "Jamal wants to put a limit on his services," said Anwar.

"Is he finally falling out of love with homework?" wondered Louis.

"Nah, our parents made him get a part-time job."

"We'll have to get it circulating then that's it's first come first served with papers," Max said calmly as he wrote up the estimated order for new potion ingredients to give Daphne. Once he'd finished, they were done for the evening.

"Oh, by the way, Blackstone," smirked Daphne, "I've found something interesting for you."

She pulled out a slip of parchment from her bag. It was an order sheet sent to Sal's Guys back in mid-December. Corvus studied it, L. Turpin of Ravenclaw wanted a small dosage of a poison. "What's this about?"

"Turpin's Morag MacDougal's best mate practically," she explained. "And that poison makes the victim projectile vomit – it's the poison used on Marietta at the Yule Ball. Lisa Turpin must've given it to MoMo."

"People are so thoughtful with their Christmas presents," grinned Louis. They snickered, though Corvus was quite stunned to learn about his indirect involvement with what happened to Marietta. He didn't feel guilty about supplying the poison; he was more struck by the irony.

"I'm going to stay in the library," he told them as they got up. "Too much work to do."

"Yeah, I should start getting ready for those OWLs, huh?" said Louis, but he shrugged and said goodbye.

"Max, where can I find those underwater potion stuff?" Corvus asked him discreetly as the others were walking out of the library. "Still have to write that paper."

"Madam Pince is right over there..."

"Do you want to feed me to that irritable vulture?"

He half-smirked and walked Corvus over to the appropriate section of the library to find the books. He even pulled down a few volumes for him. "There's also _Magical Mediterranean Water-Plants and Their Properties_, but that's a Herbology book. I'd only refer to it if the potion's ingredients call for a water-plant, you know, for background info or what."

"The magical stuff doesn't have to be that detailed for this assignment," he lied. He looked at his pocket-watch. He was late. He scanned the library for sight of them, but couldn't see them. They were probably hidden behind a mountain of books.

Max left Corvus to do his fake Muggle Studies essay. Carrying the books he gave him, he wandered between the rows of books until he found them. "Of course, the ideal solution would be for you to Transfigure yourself into a submarine or something," Granger was saying as he came upon their table. "If only we'd done human Transfiguration already! But I don't think we start that until sixth year –"

"Not even, really. Seventh year is when you actually start changing hands into hooves," he interrupted. All three of them looked like they hadn't expected to see him. "And you wouldn't be able to reverse a self-transfiguration with a submarine, Granger. It's got to be a living, non-magical animal."

"Oh… I know, I was just… being funny," she blushed. "We've been working a lot."

"Yeah, for about two hours straight," said Weasley, giving him a nasty look. "Glad you could join us finally."

"You should be, obviously you lot need a fresh mind," he said snidely. "Rather dire situation if you're best idea is to turn Potter into a submarine."

"Yeah, I don't fancy walking around with a periscope sticking out of my head," said Potter, nearly defeated by the looks of it. "I s'pose I could always attack someone in front of Moody, he might do it for me…"

"I don't think he'd let you choose what you wanted to be turned into, though," said Granger seriously. She scanned the titles of the books Corvus brought. "_Every Potion for Every Environment_," she read aloud. "This sounds promising. I was thinking our best chance would be some sort of charm."

"From what I know, most potions we'll find don't last long after consuming," he relayed Max's knowledge. He smugly handed Weasley the thickest book he'd pulled, "But let's hope for the best, shall we?"

**X  
X**

It turned out that there weren't any potions they could brew that would help Potter. Either their effects didn't sustain long enough or their preparation duration was weeks – time they didn't have. Besides, all the potions called for the rarest of ingredients. Corvus even doubted Snape would have them in his private collection.

And so Corvus began a routine of sneaking off to the library when he could to search for a solution with the Gryffindor Trio. It was actually very difficult to get away from his friends and Veronique.

"'ere are 'ou going?" asked Veronique when he got up from the Slytherin table after cleaning his plate. She grabbed his hand. There was a week to go before February twenty-fourth.

"I've got homework," he probably sounded like a broken record by now. "Bloody OWLs… _ce sont horrible." _

She let go of his hand. She'd stopped looking hurt whenever he left, she was beginning to seem impassive to it. Corvus wasn't sure that was a good thing. They didn't kiss or touch as much either. And he'd seen her chatting with Poliakoff a lot.

"Aren't you forgetting?" asked Max before he left. "We've got that Arithmancy exam to talk about."

He was of course talking about Animagi. There was only a week left until the second task, and they hadn't found anything that could help Potter survive underwater for two hours. "I'll… get back to you," he promised Max.

Corvus resented the fact that Potter had taken forever to learn the egg's clue. This was all his fault. Corvus was never the type to resort to last-minute all nighters before an exam, but he ended up doing that with the Gryffindor Trio the night before the second task. Ironically not as many people wagered Potter was going to lose in the second task, he'd impressed people in the First Task. Corvus secretly weighed the option of placing a bid against Potter.

"I don't reckon it can be done," said Weasley's voice flatly from the other side of the table. They were tearing feverishly through page after page of spells, hidden from each other by the massive piles of books on the desk in front of each of them. "There's nothing. _Nothing._ Closest was that thing to dry up puddles and ponds, that Drought Charm, but that was nowhere near powerful enough to drain the lake."

"There must be something," muttered Granger. "They'd never have set a task that was undoable."

"They have," said Weasley. "Harry, just go to the lake tomorrow, right, stick your head in, yell at the merpeople to give back whatever they've nicked and see if they chuck it out. Best you can do, mate."

"There's a way of doing it!" Grangerly said crossly. "There just has to be!"

"Don't take it personal, Granger," said Corvus, rubbing his eyes. "This library's utterly useless that's all."

"I know what I should have done," said Potter, resting, face down on _Saucy Tricks for Tricky Sorts_. "I should've learnt to be an Animagus like Sirius."

Corvus smiled to himself. He'd thought of that before, how convenient it would've been if Potter was at the same level as him in Transfiguration. At this stage, he was confident he could turn himself into a dolphin or something.

"You could've turned into a goldfish any time you wanted," said Weasley.

"Or a frog," yawned Potter.

"It takes years to become an Animagus, and then you have to register yourself and everything," said Granger vaguely, now squinting down the index of another book. "Professor McGonagall told us, remember… you've got to register yourself with the Improper Use of Magic Office… what animal you become, and your markings, so you can't abuse it…"

"I'm going to put these books away," said Corvus, still smiling. He piled a few of the books around his seat and took them away. He really just wanted to stretch his legs. He could still hear his study buddies.

"Hermione, I was joking," said Potter. "I know I haven't got a chance of turning into a frog by tomorrow morning…"

"Oh, this is no use," Granger said, snapping _Weird Wizarding Dilemmas_ shut. "Who on earth wants to make their nose hair grow into ringlets?"

"I wouldn't mind," said a voice. "Be a nice talking point, wouldn't it?"

Corvus froze. He peaked through the bookshelf to see Fred and George standing by the Gryffindor Trio's table. Panicked, Corvus wondered if they saw him before he wandered behind this bookshelf.

"What're you two doing here?" asked Ron Weasley.

"Looking for you. McGonagall wants you, Ron and you, Hermoine."

"Why?" said Granger, looking surprised.

"Dunno… she was looking a bit grim, though."

"We're supposed to take you down to her office."

Corvus frowned, wondering why those two were getting in trouble. Did McGonagall find out they were helping Potter?

"We'll meet you back in the common room," Granger told Potter, as she got up with Weasley – both of them looked very anxious. "Bring as many of these books as you can, okay?"

"Right," said Potter uneasily. Corvus waited until he couldn't see them nor hear their footsteps. Only then did he step out from behind the bookshelves.

Corvus and Potter looked at each other, utterly clueless. It was hopeless. Corvus knew it. Potter _had _to know it. Corvus collected his thoughts. He had to try imagining what he would do if he were in Potter's shoes. "Putting aside the task of breathing underwater," he began, "Have you thought about what you'll be facing down there? My mum's done business with Merpeople before, they're intelligent – so they've got another advantage over you."

"Thanks."

"They'll be freshwater Merpeople, they're supposedly less warlike than saltwater Merpeople. As we've thoroughly read _everything_ about Charms in relation to water, I can fairly accurately estimate what side-effects there would be using spells underwater."

"It won't matter if I drown, will it?"

"Our current strategy for solving that isn't getting us anywhere," he restrained himself from snapping at the Gryffindor.

"I dunno… maybe," he said dejectedly, picking at the spine of _Madcap Magic for Wacky Wizards_. "What'd you reckon would work best on them?"

Corvus told him everything he thought would be useful against Merpeople. They kept focused on this until eight o'clock when Madma Pince extinguished all the lamps and came to chivvy them out of the library. Staggering under the weight of as many books as he could carry, Potter returned to the Gryffindor Tower while Corvus descended into the dungeons.

**X  
X**

"'Ou are not coming?" wondered Veronique, with a tinge of impatience. They were in the Entrance Hall, nearly an hour past finishing breakfast, but Corvus hadn't seen or heard of Potter all morning. It was strange and he didn't know if he should be worried. So he was staying put until he saw him leave for the grounds like the other Champions had.

"Ah… prefects have to wait around and make sure everyone leaves the castle," he lied. Louis and Rebecca were standing with her, both of them looked at him suspiciously. Veronique was over it.

"_Bon_," she muttered and left with them. He watched his French girlfriend leave through the double oak doors. Once she'd disappeared he turned around to look up the staircase. He hadn't actually seen Granger or Weasley either, where were they? He took out his silver pocket watch.

"Task's 'bout to start, Black," growled Moody coming out of the Great Hall. "Don't you want to get good seats?"

"Actually, sir, I'm waiting to see where Potter is," he told him quietly. "No one's heard or seen of him. You don't think something –"

Moody patted him on the back and winked, "He'll be fine."

They walked out into the bright, chilly grounds together. The seats that had encircled the dragons' enclosure in November were now ranged along the opposite bank, rising in stands that were packed to bursting point and reflected in the lake below. The excited babble of the crowd echoed strangely across the water.

"Oh, by the way, Black, I found something interesting the other day," grinned Moody as he pulled out a slip of paper from his robes. It was one of the business cards the Salesmen passed out at the beginning of the school year. Corvus's lip twisted into a smirk. "Is that how easy it is? Send them a wish – they grant it?"

"I'm not familiar with the mechanics of their operations," he said. "I wish I did, as a prefect and all, so I could put an end to their rule-breaking shenanigans."

"They get you anything?"

"That's what I've heard."

Moody didn't pry further and they continued to approach the stands. Corvus looked to the seating behind the judge's table, where his mother would've sat. In her place was Elizabeth Cresswell, wearing only black and red robes. Only members of the Stirling family wore all three colors and only the Madam Crafter wore the brooch. Beside her was Penelope, who waved at Corvus. There were no saved seats beside them.

Potter still hadn't arrived. The other Champions were beside the judge's table. He noticed that Crouch was absent at the judges' table, Percy Weasley was in his seat instead. Taking a deep breath and reminding himself that whatever happens to Potter is out of his hand, Corvus looked for his friends. He found them sitting amongst the other Slytherins.

"Oh, 'ou are 'ere," said Veronique, unimpressed. She hadn't saved him a seat either. People had to move over for him to squeeze next to her.

"Do you think Potter's given up?" wondered Blaise Zabini who sat in front of Corvus next to Daphne. When she turned to him, Corvus noticed she had a little makeup on. "He's not showing up."

"Maybe. Or maybe he wants to be fashionably late."

Corvus frowned slightly. Did Daphne and Zabini always sit together? Where was Theodore Nott, the boy Daphne always sat with when she wasn't with the Salesmen?

Zabini nudged Daphne and pointed to the judges' table. "Looks like you're right, Greengrass."

Potter came sprinting towards the water edge. Dumbledore and Bagman were the only visibly happy about this. Potter bent over, hands on his knees and gasping for breath as Bagman moved among the champions, spacing them along the bank at intervals of ten feet. Potter was on the very end of the line next to Krum, who was wearing swimming trunks and was holding his wand ready.

"Well, all our champions are ready for the second task, which will start on my whistle. They have precisely an hour to recover what has been taken from them. On the count of three, then. One… two… three!"

**X  
X**

"Gilllyweed, where'd you reckon he got that?" asked Louis as they returned to the castle. Veronique and Rebecca returned to the Beauxbatons' quarters with Fleur and the rest of their schoolmates. Breises did the same. Corvus's cousin had left with a big grin on her face. As someone very accomplished in Transfiguration, she delighted in hearing that Krum had used an incomplete form of Transfiguration.

"Dunno," Corvus said. It was relief to know that Potter hadn't drowned. He didn't come last either. He was tied for first place with Diggory. Corvus lit up a Tentette.

"Can I bum one?" said Max, holding out his hand. Corvus obliged him. Louis and Anwar walked up the steps into the castle while they had their smoke. "Potter's really making things interesting, mucking up all odds for those who place bets."

"We can't really complain, can we?"

"He could've been in first place if he hadn't waited around under there. Potter's more clever than I thought, wouldn't expect a fourth year to know about Gillyweed – that's NEWT level stuff."

"I bet Diggory wishes he took that class now."

"Reckon this task was more complicated than the last," he said as he kicked his foot into the ground. His head was bowed, his stringy dirty blonde hair veiled his face. "No fighting dragons, but this had a twist, didn't it? With rescuing hostages or what. Hostages that, you know, mean something to the champions."

"Honestly I was more enthralled by the dragon fighting. All we saw after they'd gone into the water were a few bubbles."

"Yeah…"

Corvus tried blowing out smoke circles. Anwar knew how to do them, he tried teaching him earlier while they waited for the Champions to reemerge.

Max glanced at him, "I was surprised Cho was down there. She was there for Cedric to rescue."

Corvus nearly choked.

"It's not like they know each other much," he continued. "He only started talking to her like last year."

"You're dating Breises."

He glared at him, "I know."

"So why'd you care about who Cedric saves from the bottom of the Great Lake?"

"They're completely mutually exclusive to each other," he muttered angrily as he tossed his Tentette to the ground. "I didn't even want to talk about the damn tournament, I wanted to let you know I've contacted Dung about getting our ingredients. Should get them this week."

Corvus was wary of Max. He was terrible at lying about Cho Chang, but he knew there was no hope in needling him about her. "Alright, so by this time next week we'll have done it," he said. "We'll be Animagi."

Max gave his half-smirk, "All signs point to yes."

"Do they?"

"According to my class assignment in Divination," he boasted. "Read that I'm going to be subject to a major physical change."

**X  
X**

Everybody was very keen to hear details of what happened down in the lake, which meant that for once Weasley was getting a share of Potter's limelight. At first Weasley told something along the truth – it tallied with Cho Chang's story anyway. Dumbledore put all the hostages into a bewitched sleep in Professor McGonagall's office, first assuring them that they would be quite safe, and would awake when they were back above the water. One week later, however, Weasley was telling a thrilling tale of kidnap.

"He's telling people he had to single-handedly fight fifty armed merpeople," said Marietta at the end of Muggle Studies. Their awkwardness had subsided considerably since the beginning of term. Talking about events like the second task helped, a lot. She laughed. "They had to beat him into submission before tying him up. Isn't that silly?"

Corvus probably would've had an insult to say about Weasley's attention-seeking behavior, but since the Second Task he'd been mum on all talk concerning the Gryffindor Trio. He avoided them at all cost, he hadn't even congratulated Potter on his success. Thankfully they didn't seek him out. He assumed they understood.

"Can you believe Hermione was the thing Viktor Krum would miss the most?" said Katie Bell.

"I can," said Cormac McLaggen. "You saw how she cleaned up for the Yule Ball."

Corvus grabbed his bag and pulled it over his shoulder. His next class was Herbology, he usually had to hurry to get out to the grounds on time. As he stalked through the corridor for the stairs however, a small tapping stopped him on his back.

He turned to find a small girl with long chestnut hair and brown eyes. "Daphne told me to find you, you're supposed to go to the Hospital Wing."

"Who are you?"

She scowled at him. "I'm in your House."

"That doesn't answer my question," he snapped back. "Who are you?"

"Astoria Greengrass."

"You're related to Daphne?"

"No. It's just a weird coincidence."

This time he scowled at her. She didn't say another word; instead she turned on her heels and walked away to her next class, presumably. Corvus watched her go before changing directions, heading to the hospital wing instead.

"What's up?" he asked when he found Daphne peeking through the window of the hospital wing's door. She was alone.

"Oh good, Tori found you," she beamed, excitedly. "I couldn't believe it when I heard it – "

"Heard what?"

"Petzold! He tried to do it," she hissed. "He tried to rat on us!"

Corvus pushed her aside abruptly, trying to see into the infirmary too. Snape, McGonagall, Dumbledore and Moody were standing with their backs to the door around a bed. Madam Pomfrey was brewing a potion in a large cauldron that was spitting violently. "When did this happen?"

She shrugged, "Tori just told me, she was visiting the nurses when Snape came in. He was dragging Pretzel behind him, apparently he was wailing. Do you think he's passed out? He must be in a lot of pain." She got on her tiptoes to peer in again. "I told her to fetch one of you."

Professor Snape went to assist Pomfrey with the potion, moving out of Corvus's way to Jeremy. He lay in the bed and every inch of skin was wrapped in bandages. The bandages were bloodied. Every once and a while his body convulsed. He wasn't screaming though.

"Who do you think he tried telling?" she whispered. He grabbed her hand to pull away from the window. "What's wrong?"

"Your sister is the only one who knows, right?"

"Just her and them in there," she nodded towards the door. "And us."

"Keep it to yourself," he warned. "I'll tell the others in Herbology, but everyone else at Hogwarts are to find out about it on their own. Understood?"

"Of course, who would I tell?"

"I dunno, Blaise Zabini or someone."

She blushed slightly, her smile wiped off her face, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing – just don't tell anyone."

"I won't," she said firmly. Her giddiness from moments ago was gone. She seemed annoyed now. She took a few steps back, "Well, I'm late for Charms. See you later."

"Yeah."

He took a moment to wonder at the door to the hospital wing. He'd always been concerned that Jeremy might do something to get the Salesmen caught but he never thought he would try to breach their contract. He was a close-minded, talentless bigot but he wasn't a straight-out idiot. Perhaps he thought he'd found a loophole – but why risk it?

He turned away. _Big mistake, Pretzel_. _Big mistake. _

* * *

...

...

Okay so Corvus helped Potter! I'll be honest, I didn't enjoy writing Corvus being nice to Potter. I haven't really written how they are after the Second Task, except that Corvus is back to avoiding the Gryffindor Trio. Appropriate no? Anyway! What I did like about writing this chapter is Max's reaction to Cho/Cedric and Astoria Greengrass :) Next chapter will include SOME AMAZING things, such as... Sirius's return... Max and Corvus achieving something we've all been waiting for!


	25. Animal House

**Animal House**

Word of Jeremy spread like wildfire through Hogwarts. It had been nearly four years since someone was sent to the hospital wing due to breeching a contract with Salazar's Salesmen. Corvus couldn't even remember the name of the last idiot. "Feels like the old days, don't it?" smirked Louis as they passed through the Entrance Hall. A group of sixth year Hufflepuffs had been standing in their path, but they immediately parted and stared after the Salesmen, in fearful awe.

This was only day three since Jeremy's mistake. People whispered about them whenever they entered the room. The lower years grew visibly nervous at the sight of them. Teachers scowled at them. Only their fellow housemates acted comfortable in their presence. Louis was right, it did feel like the old days.

"He wouldn't've done this unless he thought he could get away with it," said Corvus, biting his bottom lip. He really wanted to know how things had gone down that day for Jeremy.

"So?" asked Louis. "He was wrong, wasn't he? He didn't get away with it."

"And now he's suffering explosive diarrhea," said Anwar, grinning devilishly.

"Maybe they gave him some kind of potion to make him talk," suggested Daphne.

"It wouldn't happen like this," he told her. "Magical contracts are complicated. If the person who signs one is given something to trick them into breeching it, the magic binding the contract will prevent them from doing it. It would be painless, they'll simply be unable to say or do whatever it is they're bound to."

"Really?"

"Even Veritaserum wouldn't do it," said Max.

"But Pretzel wanted to rat us out," said Anwar. "He's wanted to since we've chucked him."

Anwar had a point. Magic protects the signee only if they wouldn't breech the contact if they had the choice. Meaning, if someone had given Jeremy some substance to loosen his tongue, he would breech the contract if that's what he wanted. But if Jeremy was tricked into thinking he was safe to blab, he'd probably take the chance.

"'bout time we were reminded of what happens when you cross the Salesmen," said Max matter-of-factly.

"Bad timing for him though, isn't it?" said Daphne. "Reckon he'll miss taking his OWLs."

"He can always sit for them at the Ministry," replied Anwar. His mother worked on the board of education, though technically she didn't have to lift a finger, she was already very rich thanks to a textile factory she'd inherited in Southwest Asia. His father was wealthy too, he worked at Gringotts. "Tons of idiots re-do theirs, if they aren't happy with their results. It costs money though."

**X  
X**

As March approached, he realized his OWLs were approaching as well. He had to study in earnest now, he was behind everyone. Even Louis had started the night before Jeremy was sent to the hospital. "Managed to talk Ashely Fenlaw into tutoring me after Mara flat out refused to," he explained, "He's got me on this schedule, going to be doing eight hours every Saturday and Sunday 'til the exams. In exchange, I'm teaching him how to speak to girls. Win-win situation."

"I'm going to start meeting up with Cho and everyone again," said Max, "We want to do four hours every week day, then ten on the weekends. The extra hours on the weekend will be dedicated to softer subjects, like Charms, History, Astrology, you know."

"That sounds smart," muttered Corvus. If Cho Chang didn't still hate him for his behavior at the Yule Ball, he would've asked Max to let him tagalong.

"You think Charms is a soft subject?" laughed Louis. "Must be nice."

"Charms is one of your better subjects," reminded Anwar. "You're just lazy."

He looked flattered, "Thanks, Anwar."

"Shut up."

The weather became drier, but cruel winds skinned their hands and faces every time they went out into the grounds. Night runs were unpleasant and it only added to Corvus's eagerness to finish Animagi. "I hope this is the last time we have to deal with this rubbish," smirked Corvus. It was Thursday night and Max and him were sneaking through the castle on their way to meet Dung for their potion's ingredients.

Max was smirking too and whispered excitedly, "The potion only takes a day to brew or what, we can be done by Saturday morning."

"I think I ought to turn into a black panther," he told him as they approached the end of the dungeon corridor. "I've already got the dark hair, and personally I feel I share a lot in common with a black panther, personality wise."

His best friend snickered, "Sure. I want wicked fangs too."

They both tried to keep their laughter as quiet as possible. Corvus took a deep breath and held the ear-trumpet to his ear. As usual there was the rush of magnified sounds. It was past midnight, most of what he heard was empty space with a few noises of far away snoring bodies and house-elves shuffling about cleaning. But he carefully searched the sounds, hunting for Filch, Mrs. Norris or Peeves. All three of them were very far away, possibly several floors above them.

He put the ear-trumpet down. They hurried through the third floor corridor passageway. As Max moved the suit of armor aside, Corvus daydreamed about how this would be the last time they'll need to sneak out through the little yellow door. As Animagi they could just pop a window open, jump out and race openly across the grounds to Hogsmeade.

They sneezed on the rubble blocking the passageway behind the yellow door. They got on their hands and knees and entered the dark, earthy tunnel. A black panther could dart through it very comfortably. He was serious about wanting to become a panther. Last year when he'd seen Professor Lupin turn into a werewolf, he watched as convenient it was to be a large animal in Animagus form. Sirius was able to fight Lupin off while Corvus and the Gryffindor Trio ran for safety.

And a black panther was way cooler than a big black dog.

Perhaps it was the brutal winds and their excitement combined, but the boys practically sprinted for Hog's Head from the rickety outhouse. By the time they turned the corner into the pub's back alley it had turned into a race, Max came in first making Corvus the loser. Dung took a step back, probably looking very bewildered underneath his balaclava. "Someone chasin' yeh boys?"

"Huh, no," panted Corvus.

"We're just in a hurry," said Max.

"Exactly, show us the stuff, mate."

"Pretty interesting list of things yeh wanted," commented Dung as Max checked the quality of the ingredients. "My mate says some of 'em thing aren't used ever except in some serious potion-making."

"Our clientele's become very varied this year," explained Corvus. "You wouldn't believe it."

They paid Dung extra for his discretion and returned to Hogwarts with their ingredients. Again they checked that the coast was clear before making their way to the Shrieking Shack. Corvus stood back while Max prepped the ingredients and brewed the potion. He was insistent that Corvus not help or interrupt his concentration. So Corvus just stood there, watching unblinkingly. He wanted to ask Max if everything was happening as it should, was the liquid's color corrected? What about the consistency? Is it supposed to be odor-less?

By the looks of it though his best friend didn't come across any problems. He worked in complete silence and in constant motion. Never once did he hesitant at what he did. The sun was just beginning to peak on the horizon when his hands stopped and he looked at Corvus, "Done."

**X  
X**

Corvus could hardly sit still during breakfast. He didn't touch a thing of food. _Best of All Worlds _stressed that you shouldn't eat 24 hours prior to your first Animagi-transformation. Max cleverly moved around the food on his plate as if he was actually eating. Breises didn't notice, probably because Max kept her busy by asking her questions about what her experience with her OWLs had been like.

"Are you not eating?" Daphne asked Corvus. He still sat in front of a bare plate. She was sitting across form him, and he noticed that she was two seats away from Blaise Zabini.

"Are 'ou not feeling well?" wondered Veronique. She hadn't noticed he wasn't eating, Rebecca and her were talking about something that had happened within the Beauxbatons crowd. Apparently an Elodie and Roger were starting to date, even though Roger's ex-girlfriend was Elodie's best friend.

"Yeah, not feeling well." Veronique frowned at him, pityingly and kissed him on the cheek. She didn't waste too much time returning to her conversation with Rebecca though.

There had been delays recently in the post because the owls kept being blown off course by the cruel winds. Most of the owls arrived with their feathers sticking up the wrong way. Corvus watched as most owls hurried out of the Great Hall after delivering their mail in fear of being sent outside again.

"Oh here it is!" giggled Pansy Parkinson. She had a magazine in her hands – _Witch Weekly_. She hastily riffled through the magazine to the center pages and held it up for everyone around her to see. A color photograph of Potter headed a short piece entitled _HARRY POTTER'S SECRET HEARTACHE. _

Tracey Davies heckled nastily as she read a quote, "_Granger, a plain but ambitious girl – _Rita Skeeter's putting it mildly."

"Well _I _don't," boasted Pansy as she let Malfoy take the magazine from her. "I told her the truth, Granger's ugly."

"When did Skeeter interview _you?_" frowned Milvina Fox as she read her own issue of _Witch Weekly. _Corvus suspected she was rather jealous not to have been quoted herself. The article described Pansy as _pretty and vivacious_.

"It better had not been on Hogwarts ground," warned Brazda, "Because she's prohibited."

"Don't worry, Brazda, you'd never find her on Hogwarts ground," sneered Malfoy.

"Viktor invited her to visit him in Bulgaria?" gasped Louis once Milvina gave him the magazine. He glanced enviously down the table where Viktor Krum sat with the other Durmstrang students. "I want to go to Bulgaria..."

"That could just be the love potions talking," smirked Balise Zabini.

"Viktor does talk much about her," said Breises, as if she didn't care.

Louis passed the magazine onto Anwar. He read aloud in a drawling voice, "_Deprived of love since the tragic demise of his parents -_She's never going to let him live that down, is she?"

While this was all very amusing, Corvus felt it was minimal compared to what he had to look forward to that night. Max didn't blink twice either about the article, but it distracted everyone else for the rest of breakfast and no one noted they weren't eating.

Corvus's mind was dreaming of what life was going to be life like as a black panther as he left for Charms and someone tapped him on the back at the doors of the Great Hall. He turned, surprised to see that he'd completely ignored the Gryffindor Trio in passing. He quickly looked around at who was watching them, "What do you want?" he hissed out the corner of his mouth.

"He sent this," Potter handed him a rolled up piece of parchment. Corvus quickly read it.

_Be at stile at end of road out of Hogsmeade (past Dervish & Banges) at two o'clock on Saturday afternoon. Tell Corvus and bring as much food as you can. _

"Is he bloody insane?" said Corvus incredulously.

"Seems like he is," said Weasley. "It's not like the place is swarming with Dementors any more."

This put a damper on his mood, though slightly. If all went according to plan, after all, by tomorrow afternoon he ought to be an Animagus. Even seeing Sirius couldn't spoil his mood then. "Whatever," he returned the letter. "I'll be there."

"We should do it at three in the morning," whispered Max in Arithmancy, their last class of the day. They were huddled over their number charts, acting as if they were consulting them while Professor Vector calmly walked by. Corvus didn't even have to ask why Max chose three o'clock, three was a magical number, three in the morning was traditionally the witching hour. Were they under any other circumstance, Corvus wouldn't pay attention to such a thing. But this was different.

"I can't wait to tell Anwar, Louis, Daphne – everyone we can," said Corvus. His stomach felt like it was being besieged by over-grown butterflies. Neither of them managed to write a complete sentence by the time the bell rang.

"I'll see you later then," Max half-smirked. "No point in sitting around in the Great Hall while everyone else eats again, might as well go straight to the library. Wait for Cho and the others."

As someone not allowed in the magical study group, Corvus figured he should try and get some studying done on his own in the dormitory. He'd have a good few hours alone while everyone else enjoyed dinner. As he pass through the Entrance Hall he smelt the delicious aroma from within the Great Hall.

Strolling through the dungeons, he twirled his wand between his friends, trying to get rid of his pent-up energy. _If I can't be a black panther, I wouldn't mind being something like a bear... though a bear would be conspicuous wouldn't it? Someone's bound to notice a bear... what about a wildcat? Or a fox? Yeah, a fox would be cool... _He was nearing Snape's office and noted that the door was ajar.

His stride faltered immediately. He still remembered seeing Crouch trespassing in Snape's office on the Marauders' Map. Carefully he held his wand at the ready and drew closer. Voices could be heard within.

"You must be curious about what this means," began an agitated voice. "What is making this happen? Have you told Dumbledore of this?"

Using every ounce of expertise at sneaking about, he tiptoed to the door and peaked in. Karkaroff was hovering over Snape at his desk. Snape looked exceptionally angry. "If you feel this is something the Headmaster should be made aware of, by all means I'm sure he'll make time to meet with you, Karkaroff."

Karkaroff pulled up the left-hand sleeve of his robe. Corvus saw something on his skin, something like a dark tattoo. He couldn't see the particulars of the design, though he thought he could make out a skull. "It's never been this clear, not since he was defeated."

Snape's black eyes steadily stared into the tattoo. Judging by his expression, he was uncomfortable to be confronted by this strange tattoo. Slowly Snape moved his right hand over his own left-forearm.

"If this means – if this means..." Karkaroff swallowed. He couldn't finish his sentence. "Severus... we both will be in danger for – for what we've done. For turning our backs –"

"I've told you before," snarled Snape, glaring up at Karkaroff instead. "If you wish to flee, then flee. I am remaining in Hogwarts. Now I will not speak to you again about this, leave my office."

Karkaroff covered his arm again. He looked pale in the candle-light, his forehead was glistening with a cold sweat. Snape continued to fix him with a loathsome stare, and the Durmstrang headmaster surrendered finally. He began to approach the door. Corvus quickly stepped back and bolted.

**X  
X**

He slept very lightly that night. He had a dream. He was running outside to the Whomping Willow. The branches wouldn't stop swing at him even when he touched the knotted root at its base. Something was caught on his leg as well so he couldn't crawl into the passageway. He kept struggling against it. If he didn't get through he'd miss his chance. He used his hands to crawl himself forward. On his left-forearm was the same tattoo that he saw on Karkaroff. Time was ticking by. He kept kicking his foot, but he wasn't going to get free!

"Wake up."

Corvus jolted out of sleep. Max stood over him, soft light shimmering from his wand. He was already dressed and he threw Corvus a cloak. They didn't speak. Corvus pulled his boots on, haphazardly tied them without lacing them up all the way. He left his silver pocket-watch on his nightstand. _Best of All Worlds_ stated that first-time Animagi should be done with nothing more than clothing and a wand on the person. Together they slipped out of the room. Louis nor Anwar stirred.

Once they got out onto school grounds, Max put his wand away. Corvus remembered his dream vaguely and pulled up his sleeve to check his left-forearm. Of course there was nothing there. Dismissing the dream, he began to review all he'd learn for Animagi in his head.

His dream hadn't been a prediction for anything. Max and him got by the Whompin Willow with no problem and they were soon within the Shrieking Shack. Max examined the cauldron. "Well?" Corvus asked, his voice croaky.

Max kept peering into the cauldron. "It's perfect. It's done."

Corvus went to stand beside him and looked in. Yesterday Corvus remembered the cauldron to have been filled nearly to the rim, but now it was nearly empty. There was only a small puddle of green liquid at the very bottom.

"It's just enough for the both of us," he explained. He was glowing with pride, Corvus could tell. "The potion takes a day to dilute, to the finite state it needs to be for it to be consumed. I brewed it with two quantities in mind."

Corvus took out his own wand and conjured two cups out of thin air. This display of transfiguration built confident for him, even if they were primitive wooden cups. He gave one to Max, "Who goes first?"

"Obviously we both go or what," he said. He leaned over to scope up the potion. Corvus did the same. The was just enough potion for their two cups.

"So we drink this and say the incantation," said Corvus, unblinkingly staring at the cup. Max was doing the same, he carefully nodded his head. "We should do it."

"Yeah..."

"On the count of three?"

"Yeah..."

"One..." he took his eyes off the cup to look to his friend.

"Two," swallowed Max, meeting his gaze.

"_Three_," they said at once and quickly brought the cup to their lips. Corvus closed his eyes and titled his head back as he drank it all. It tasted like dirt. He tossed the cup down. Max and him used both their hands to hold their wands to their own chests. Again glancing at each other, they chanted in unison, "_Immediatus Corpusfera!" _

Corvus winced. A hot, searing light exploded behind his eyelids. It engulfed the inside of his head. It was painful, excruciating but he didn't scream out. His body was controlled by something else. He staggered backwards. His legs bent and cracked in unnatural angles. Blind he held his hands out, it felt like his fingers curled back into his palms. His ears were filled with deep popping sounds. He gasped for air and felt at once his lungs expand to their very limits before contracting sharply. He lurched forward, his back hunched and finally he started to feel his heart, liver, kidneys, stomach, they were enveloped by that same hot, searing sensation in his head.

His mind didn't panic. It didn't tell him he was dying. It was painful, yes, but he didn't feel dread. In fact, his mind traveled away from his body. It wasn't concerned with the internal. He was concerned about the air around him. It was stale here, but that was because he was trapped indoor. It was outside he wanted to be. There was no visible exit. He called out, listening to his lone voice echo back at him. He was somewhere rather big compared to his own size.

He smelt the air. He could smell the trees just out of his reach. Where he was was very dusty and moldy, stifling. He cocked his head, suddenly he knew where the exit was. Fresh air was coming through somewhere and it smelt like moist earth. Moist-earth? Worms were to be found there.

Stretching momentarily he jumped and soared a few feet until he landed on the edge of a hole. The hole was what was letting the fresh air in. He let out a call again, it traveled far and obviously wherever this hole led, it wasn't to a place as confined as this.

A high-pitched yelp startled him. He leapt into the air again, this time coming to a rest on the other side of the room, atop a perch of some kind. Also in the room was a large canine, it was staring at him. It had large, pointed ears and grayish brown fur. He cocked his head sideways, there was something peculiar about this canine. The fur above its eyes were rather dark, almost like human eyebrows...

Suddenly his consciousness sprang forward again in his mind. It was Max!

_Ha!_

Corvus listened to his new voice. It was a _kaw_, he was a bird! He'd flown without realizing it! His spirit elated, he stretched his wings and turned his head both ways. His wings were quite wide and black with a green sheen. The primaries had white inner webs. His belly was pure white. He was a magpie.

Max yelped again, his tongue rolled out of his mouth like he was grinning. He was a jackal, or a coyote. He'd research later, right now he wanted to fly and be in the open night sky. Max wanted that too, he could sense it.

Max bounded forward at Corvus. He wanted to chase him, to play. Corvus kawed again at took off into the air. He dove down at Max, twisting out of reach of his paws, then spun into the direction of the passageway out of the Shrieking Shack. Max howled before leaping in after him.

The air fluttered across his feathers, he felt it beneath his wings and felt his own fine balance. It felt like he was on the edge of losing it, but that didn't leave him feeling insecure. He knew he'd never fall, he'd never lose it. His body knew exactly what it was doing. It was all instinct. He could hear Max running after him. Both of them darted through the long, sloping tunnel in a matter of seconds, or so it felt.

Corvus shot out from underneath the Whomping Willow. He startled the tree and it became to sway savagely. Corvus gracefully flew between its flailing branches, laughing. He distracted the Whomping Willow enough for Max to sprint out and run out of reach.

Max panted and barked for Corvus. He wanted to go into the Forbidden Forest. He'd always wanted to. Corvus swooped down to glide along beside him as he ran towards the dark Forest. There was a strong sense of something foreboding but it wasn't near to them. Corvus knew it was further into the forest, hidden deep within. Max knew this too and they decided not to push their luck. They'll stay within view of the school's grounds.

Max was thrilled by all the smells around him. He immediately went to bury his nose in every crook and cranny. Corvus picked at things with his beak, he knew immediately where to find worms and bugs. He didn't feel hungry but he ate. He got quite carrying away eating actually, his human mentality had to rein it in. He called for Max, he wanted to race him again.

Before Max could answer him, both of them sensed another creature. Max sniffed the air and his ears folded back. It was a rabbit. Corvus remained silent as he watched Max crouch low on his four legs. He approached where he knew the rabbit to be. Corvus hopped sideways, following cautiously. He wanted Max to catch the rabbit too, because then there would be food for the both of them.

His friend lunged over a scrub and landed on the brown rabbit passing by behind it. Corvus flew after them to watch. The rabbit struggled beneath his paws and Max's jaw was shut over it's neck. His ears were still folded back.

_Pop._

"Ah!" Max in his human form scrambled back on the ground. The rabbit sprinted off at an unbelievable speed, disappearing into the forest. Max panted frantically and looked at Corvus, who cocked his head sideways curiously. "I almost killed a rabbit!"

Corvus laughed, though it only came out as a crow call.

Max grinned, "Let's save the Forest for later. Hogsmeade's probably enough for now, tons of interesting smells there I reckon."

Corvus kawed in agreement. With a final half-smirk at the magpie, Max turned back into his canine form.

**X  
X**

"You're in a good mood," noted Daphne later that morning. Corvus and Max had gathered the Salesmen in their room while everyone else went for breakfast. They looked disheveled and half-crazed, they hadn't gotten a wink of sleep since three in the morning. But they couldn't stop smiling.

"We have good news," said Corvus. "_Brilliant_ news."

"Yeah, we've got to have a meeting," said Max. "Before we leave for Hogsmeade."

"Exactly, we have to have a meeting. This is very good news."

Daphne laughed, "Alright, alright."

"What's this about?" asked Louis, eying them like they were complete nutters. He cautiously took a seat on the foot of his bed beside Daphne.

"Where to start," muttered Corvus, excitedly. "Okay well, you've all noticed how Max and I are always sneaking off, right?"

"And won't tell us why? Yeah, we've noticed," drawled Anwar. "Are you two officially dating finally?"

"_Ha_."

"It's been for the benefit of us all," said Max. "We wanted to come up with a better defense against Filch or what, you know, to avoid any more close calls."

"I was told you lot haven't had any since you got the ear-trumpet," said Daphne, her eyebrow raised.

"This is a thousand times better," assured Corvus, stepping towards her. Since changing back from a magpie, his step had an extra spring in it. It was like his body wanted to take flight again. It was taking some time to return to his rational, human mind. Everything shiny in the room kept distracting him. "We've been working at this since our second year, Daphne. _Nearly three years!" _

"Tell us already, Blackstone," said Anwar, losing patience.

"Let's show them," Corvus turned to Max, his eyes alight.

"Yes. On the count of three? One... two... three!"

_Pop_.

All three of them gasped and drew their legs away from the floor. Anwar's eyes bulged and Louis's jaw fell to the floor practically. Daphne was amazingly twice as awe-struck. "Oh my... you're an Amagius..."

Max howled while Corvus flew laps round the room in the blink of an eye. Like he'd watched his mother do countless of times before, he tried to morph back into his human form in mid-flight. He went crashing to the floor. Max had turned back into a human too and he helped him back to his feet. Grinning like fools they turned to their friends, expecting to see the same delight on their faces. What they saw was something different entirely. Louis and Anwar both wore deep scowls. There was nearly a snarl on Louis's face, Corvus was reminded of the Veela's at the World Cup – how gruesome looking they turned when they grew angry. Anwar wasn't as animated, but his displeasure was practically radiating off of him and Corvus felt afraid to maintain eye contact.

"What's wrong?" Corvus muttered, afraid to break the tense silence.

"You've been becoming Animaguses?" asked Louis sharply.

"The plural's actually Animagi," said Max tentatively.

"It's honestly the perfect plan," Corvus told him, daring to smile again. "Think about it, we can spot Filch and Mrs. Norris before they can us –"

"But – but we have the ear-trumpet," stuttered Daphne in a small whisper, still recovering.

"That's fun, don't get me wrong, but _this_... this is brilliant. Think of it, who would ever think the Salesmen had a pair of Animagi?"

"Yes, a pair," repeated Louis, voice dripping with cynicism.

"Right, a pair of wankers," growled Anwar, his voice a low rumble like thunder.

Corvus frowned, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Didn't think of including us?"

"Yeah, been here since _our_ second year too and we've got to get past Filch as well," chimed Louis.

"Didn't think of including us?"

"Well... it was a huge undertaking, obviously," began Corvus. "I felt Max and I were already advanced enough in Transfiguration to give it a try – "

"Oh, so we weren't smart enough?" said Louis. "Afraid we'd hold you back?"

"I'm sure that's not why," interjected Daphne, delicately. She, at least, wasn't angry with them. She looked concerned about the growing conflict amongst them though. "Right?"

Corvus held his tongue. In truth, that was _exactly_ why Corvus kept it between him and Max. He didn't want to have to help Louis or Anwar keep up. He wanted to become an Animagus as quickly as possible.

Anwar gave a derisive laugh, "And Pretzel thought he got cheated."

"Oi! This is nothing like that," snapped Corvus. "Pretzel wasn't cheated, we chucked him because – huh – he's a dumb git." He couldn't reveal the real reason in front of Daphne, because then he would have to reveal that Max was Muggleborn.

"Might as well chuck us too then," said Louis. "We're useless now, aren't we? Compared to you two geniuses."

"We still need you," said Max, sincere but Louis and Anwar weren't having it.

"Nonsense, you've got enough legs to do all the running around, don't you? We've just go two each."

"No wings either," added Anwar, glaring at Corvus. He stood up. Corvus nearly flinched, he worried his friend was going to punch him. "Come on, Louis. Daphne."

The part-Veela boy got to his feet too, sneering, "Right, let's go enjoy the company of our fellow slow-witted non-Animagi friends."

They both looked to Daphne. She was blushing under all the attention. With a tentative glance at Corvus and Max, she too got up. Without speaking a word she followed Anwar and Louis out.

"Can you believe them?" Corvus said, incredulously. He was aghast, how could they have said those things? He was so sure they were going to see why Max and him being Animagi was a good thing for them _all_. They were taking this way too personal.

"That really didn't go as expected," sighed Max, possibly Corvus's only friend left.

**X  
X**

By half past one, Corvus's mood had worsen. Louis and Anwar refused to speak or look at them when they arrived at the breakfast table. Everyone else noticed the tension. Louis laid claim to the older Slytherins in the Quidditch team, he talked loudly with them and every time Corvus tried to interject, he'd go silent. Once Corvus had finished, Louis would start up a completely different conversation topic. Rebecca and Veronique kept exchanging troubled glances when this happened.

Anwar sat with Adrian Pucey and a few other sixth years, Corvus nor Max dared trying to speak with him. He was still radiating with anger. When Adrian Pucey asked him what was bothering him, he only assured them his problem wasn't with them.

So Corvus and Max sat alone on the edge. Daphne wasn't even sitting with them, she was sitting beside Louis, silently eating.

When he left the castle at noon, he walked alone with Veronique. Max and Brieses were standing in the castle because Max had his study group to attend. A weak silver sun was shining down upon the grounds, at least the weather was looking up for him. "'E told Rebecca and me zat we weren't going together to 'Ogsmeade," she explained, crestfallen. "When we asked why 'e only said it was because 'e and you were not speaking. _Pour quoi?"_

"He's being a brat."

"Oh."

They didn't speak until they arrived in Hogsmeade.

"Where'd you want to go?"

"I don't care."

"Zat is not helpful," she scowled. He shrugged. She sighed and flipped her long hair back, "Vell, I 'ave to buy my little brother a birthday gift. They told me 'ere is a place where I can buy a Sneakoscope?"

He brought her to Dervish & Banges. Since she claimed to know what she wanted to buy, Corvus figured it would be a short trip. However he ended up standing around for nearly an hour while she examined every size, color and model of Sneakoscopes before she decided against Sneakoscopes all together. She then started from scratch, browsing all sections of the store. "Listen, I've got to meet someone," he told Veronique at half past one.

She did not look pleased. "Who?"

"Prefect stuff." This was quickly becoming his go-to lie, he didn't even blink when he said it.

"But who will I shop vit?" she demanded. "You vill just leave me alone? Like zat?"

"Rebecca and everyone's probably at the Three Broomsticks or Madam's Puddifoot's. Honestly, you can go find them. You're allowed to talk to Louis, he's just not speaking to me," his lip curled.

She clicked her tongue and turned her back to him, facing the merchandize again, "_Bien. Aurevoir." _

Sensing that he'd just made another big mistake, Corvus made his way up High Street and out towards the edge of the village. He hadn't been on this side of the village before. The outhouse stood about a mile out of Hogsmeade on the opposite side to this. Here the winding lane was leading him out into wild countryside. The cottages were fewer and their gardens larger. Where the outhouse was there were no cottages and the land surrounding it was unfit for farming. It was completely neglected.

Corvus was walking towards the foot of a mountain in whose shadow Hogsmeade lay. Then he turned a corner and saw a stile at the end of the lane. Waiting for him, standing beside a large, shaggy black dog was the Gryffindor Trio. "Hello," said Granger when he reached them.

"Hn." He looked to the dog. Sirius had some old newspapers in his mouth. The thought of turning into his own Animagus form was very tempting. It would take him away from his foul mood and horrible day.

Sirius turned and began to trot away from them across the scrubby path of ground which rose to meet the rocky foot of the mountain. Corvus climbed over the stile after the Gryffindor Trio as they followed him. Sirius led them to the very foot of the mountain, where ther ground was covered with bolders and rocks. It was easy for Sirius, with his four paws, and again Corvus thought of how convenient it would be to turn into his magpie form. Soon they were out of breath after Sirius. He led them higher up onto the mountain itself. For nearly half an hour they climbed a steep winding and stony path, following Sirius's wagging tail.

"Waste of bloody time," grunted Corvus. "I don't have to do this... if only..."

"Got – better – plans – do you?" panted Weasley. He didn't understand, Corvus literally didn't have to be killing himself climbing this mountain. He could be flying!

"Ten points from Gryffindor, Weasley."

"What!" he stopped climbing causing Granger to nearly bump into him.

"Ron!"

Sirius started to bark up ahead at them. "Come on guys!" called Potter, annoyed. The ginger sent Corvus a loathsome look before continuing on. Slytherin responded with a similar expression. At last, Sirius slipped out of sight.

When they reached the place where he had vanished, they saw a narrow fissure in the rock. They squeezed into it, and found themselves in a cool, dimly lit cave. Tethered at the end of it, one end of his rope around a large rock, was Buckbeak. All four of them bowed low to him, and after regarding them imperiously for a moment, Buckbeak bent his scaly front knees. He allowed Granger to rush forward and stroke his feathery neck.

Sirius had turned back into his human form. He was wearing ragged grey robes, the same ones he'd worn when he left Azkaban. His black hair was longer than it had been when Corvus saw him in November. It was untidy and matted once more. He looked thinner too.

"Chicken!" he said hoarsely, after removing the old _Daily Prophets_ from his mouth and throwing them onto the cave floor.

Corvus wondered if his uncle too had difficulty avoiding slipping into an animal consciousness when in his Animagus form. In _Best of All Worlds_ it mentioned that the tendency never goes away, but the wizard learns how to fight it off more easily. It's all a matter of practice. But Sirius had to spend a lot of time as a dog, did he ever lose his concentration?

As Potter pulled open his bag and handed over a bundle of chicken legs and bread, Corvus wandered to the old _Daily Prophets._ He picked up one of the yellowing copies, bearing the headline _Ministry Witch Still Missing – Minister for Magic Now Personally Involved. _

"Thanks," said Sirius, grabbing a drumstick. He sat down on the cave floor and tore a large chunk with his teeth. "I've been living off rats mostly. Can't steal too much food from Hogsmeade. I'd draw attention to myself."

Corvus watched him grin up at Potter, but Potter returned the grin only reluctantly. "What're you doing here, Sirius?"

"Fulfilling my duty as godfather," said Sirius, gnawing on the chicken bone in a very dog-like way. Corvus imagined that one day he too would start acting like a bird. "Don't worry about me, I'm pretending to be a loveable stray."

"That doesn't sound like a fool-proof disguise to me," said Corvus, dropping the _Daily Prophet_ back to the cave floor. Sirius grinned at Corvus, who of course didn't smile back. "Just saying."

"Hello to you too, Corv." He looked to Potter again, still grinning. "I hope he wasn't too much trouble to convince him to come." Seeing the anxiety in Potter's face made him lose the joking demeanor and he said more seriously, "I want to be on the spot. Your last letter... well, let's just say things are getting fishier. I've been stealing the paper every time someone throws one out, and by the looks of things, I'm not the only one who's getting worried."

He nodded at the yellowing _Daily Prophets_. Weasley picked them up and unfolded them, but Potter continued to stare at Sirius. "What if they catch you? What if you're seen?"

"You four and Dumbledore are the only ones here who know I'm an Animagus," said Sirius, shrugging and continuing to devour the chicken leg. Weasley nudged Potter and passed him the _Daily Prophets_.

"They're making it sound like he's dying," said Potter as he read the headline story about Crouch. "But he can't be that ill if he managed to get up here..."

"That map might've been wrong," retorted Corvus, crossing his arms and leaning against the cave's wall.

"The Marauders' Map's never wrong," guffawed Sirius.

"Yes it is," he said with pleasure. "My name didn't show up, and I was standing right there."

Sirius blinked, frankly bewildered. Corvus felt satisfied.

"My brother's Crouch's personal assistant," Weasley informed Sirius. "He says Crouch is suffering from overwork."

"Mind you, he _did _look ill, last time I saw him up close," said Potter slowly. "The night my name came out of the Goblet..."

"Getting his comeuppance for sacking Winky, isn't he?" said Granger coldly. She was stroking Buckbeak, who was crunching up Sirius's chicken bones. "I bet he wishes he hadn't done it now – bet he feels the difference now she's not there to look after him."

Corvus didn't know how he hadn't noticed it before, but Granger was wearing little, silver stud earrings. They were shinny. Eyes glued to them, he managed to zone out of the conversation without knowing. When he snapped to, Potter was wrapping up his story about what had happened at the World Cup with Crouch and Winky.

Sirius was on his feet again, pacing up and down the cave. "Let me get this straight," he said after a while, brandishing a fresh chicken leg. "You first saw the elf in the Top Box. She was saving Crouch a seat, right?"

"Right," the Gryffindor Trio said together.

"But Crouch didn't turn up for the match?"

"No," said Potter. "I think he said he'd been too busy."

"Harry, did you check your pockets for your wand after you'd left the Top Box?"

"Erm... no. I didn't need to use it before we got in the forest. And then I put my hand in my pocket, and all that was in there were my Omnioculars." He stared at Sirius. "Are you saying whoever conjured the Mark stole my wand in the Top Box?"

"It's possible," said Sirius.

"Winky didn't steal that wand!" said Granger shrilly. Corvus whipped his head round to stare at her, her sudden cry breaking his will to ignore her earrings. He had to look at her. _Stop staring at Granger! _He told himself.

"The elf wasn't the only one in that box," said Sirius. Corvus made his eyes follow his uncle as he continued to pace. "Who else was sitting behind you?"

"Loads of people," said Potter. "Some Bulgarian ministers... Cornelius Fudge... the Malfoys..."

"The Malfoys!" said Weasley suddenly, so loudly that his voice echoed all around the cave, and Buckbeak tossed his head nervously. "I bet it was Lucius Malfoy!"

"Really, Weasley? Then how did it end up with Crouch's House-elf?" asked Corvus dryly.

"He had to pin it on someone else, didn't he? House-elves will do whatever a wizard wants them to do." Granger made an offended sound.

"Wizards never order about House-elves that don't belong to their residency or own family," he reminded Weasley, haughtily. "Of course _you_ wouldn't understand such protocol, first you'd have to _have_ a House-elf..."

"Corv, give it a rest," warned Sirius, before asking "Anyone else?"

"My mother, Coco and me," said Corvus.

"And then no one," said Potter.

"Yes, there was," said Granger. "There was Ludo Bagman."

"Oh, yeah..."

"I don't know anything about Bagman, except that he used to be Beater for the Wimbourne Wasps. What's he like?"

"Moronic," drawled Corvus.

"He's okay. He keeps offering to help me with the Triwizard Tournament."

"Does he now?" said Sirius, frowning more deeply. Corvus actually didn't know this either. "I wonder why he'd do that."

"Says he's taken a liking to me."

"Hmm."

"We saw him in the forest just before the Dark Mark appeared," Granger told Sirius. "Remember?"

"Yeah, but he didn't stay in the forest, did he?" said Weasley. "The moment we told him about the riot, he went off to the campsite."

"How d'you know?" Granger shot back. "How d'you know where he Disapparated to?"

"Yeah, I have a hard time believing he'd go help at the campsite," agreed Corvus.

"But come on," said Weasley incredulously, "Are you saying you reckon Ludo Bagman conjured the Dark Mark?"

"It's more likely he did it than Winky," she said stubbornly.

"Told you," he said, looking meaningfully at Sirius, "told you she's obsessed with house – "

But Sirius held up his hand to silence Weasley. "When the Dark Mark had been conjured, and the elf had been discovered holding Harry's wand, what did Crouch do?"

"Went to look in the bushes," said Potter, "But there wasn't anyone else there."

"He was desperate to find someone though," added Corvus, remembering watching that man's frantic search, all the while talking to himself.

"Of course," muttered Sirius, "Of course, he'd want to pin it on anyone but his own elf... and then he sacked her?"

"Yes," said Granger in a heated voice. "He sacked her, just because she hadn't stayed in her tent and let herself get trampled – "

"Hermione, _will_ you give it a rest with the elf!"

But Sirius shook his head and said, "She's got the measure of Crouch better than you have, Ron. If you want to know what a man's like, take a good look at how he treats his interiors, not his equals."

He had a hand over his unshaven face, evidently thinking hard. "All these absences of Barty Crouch's... he goes to the trouble of making sure his house-elf saves him a seat at the Quidditch World Cup, but doesn't bother to turn up and watch. He works very hard to reinstate the Triwizard Tournament and then stops coming to that, too... it's not like Crouch. It he's even taken a day off work because of illness before this, I'll eat Buckbeak."

"D' you know Crouch then?" asked Potter.

Sirius's face darkened. He suddenly looked as menacing as the night Corvus had first seen him, the night when Corvus still thought he was a murderer and his possible father. "Oh, I know Crouch all right," he said quietly. "He was the one who gave the order for me to be sent to Azkaban – without a trail."

"_What?" _Granger and Weasley said together.

"You're kidding!" exclaimed Potter. Corvus only raised an eyebrow, but this was rather disgusting to him too.

"No, I'm not," said Sirius, taking another great bite of chicken. "Crouch used to be Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, didn't you know?"

They shook their head.

"He was tipped as the next Minister of Magic. He's a great wizard, Barty Crouch, powerfully magical – and power-hungry. Oh, never a Voldemort supporter," he said, reading the look on Potter's face. Corvus winced at the Dark Lord's uncensored name. "No, Barty Crouch was always very outspoken again the Dark side. But then a lot of people who were against the Dark side... well, you wouldn't understand... you're too young..."

"That's what my dad said at the World Cup," said Weasley, with a trace of irritation in his voice. "Try us, why don't you?"

A grin flashed across Sirius's thin face. "All right, I'll try you..."

* * *

...

...

Another long chapter! God Sirius talks a lot in the Padfoot Returns chapter, go figure...Yay! Corvus and Max did it, they are Animaguses! Okay so, let me explain what and why I picked their forms as; 'corvus' is latin for crow/raven, so I knew he had to an animal in the crow family. He is a European Magpie, they are beautiful I think. and their folklore is tied to a lot of cool things, such as thievery, death (Corvus has a lot of death around him), witchcraft... Max is a coyote. He was originally going to be a fox, but i thought it would be more fun if he was a coyote, coyotes are American as he is! They've got cute ears. Again the mythology behind coyotes is interesting, they're seen as tricksters and mediators between life and death (like ravens)

next chapter will pick up immediately from where we left off here... Corvus will get a glimpse of what kind of world his parents lived through... the loss of Anwar and Louis is felt... OWLs study madness... Crouch's Madness too...


	26. How It Used to Be

**How It Used to Be **

Sirius walked once up the cave, back again and the said, "Imagine Voldemort's powerful now. You don't know who his supporters are, you don't know who's working for him and who isn't. You know he can control people so that they do terrible things without being able to stop themselves. You're scared for yourself, and your family, and your friends. Every week, news comes of more deaths, more disappearances, more torturing... the Ministry of Magic's in disarray, they don't know what to do, they're trying to keep everything hidden from the Muggles, but meanwhile, Muggles are dying too. Terror everywhere... panic... confusion... that's how it used to be."

Corvus shifted. Sometimes, when his mother was confronted by the horrible things that happened – or when Ascanius is mentioned – Corvus could see it in her eyes, he could see that she still lived in that world.

**X  
****X**

At the beginning she was on the other side of the fence, the bad side, though she was never a player. She watched without passing judgement. She still lived as a pureblood then. She didn't see the terror lurking behind the movement, she only saw how enthralled Regulus was by it all.

They were in their fourth year when Leandra asked him about the Dark Lord. It was a Saturday and there was a storm raging on outside. They were in the library, not studying or doing a scratch of homework. She was copying a picture from the _Daily Prophet's_ front page, it was of a Veela caught in a heated affair with the Minister of Magic. Regulus was sitting with her, watching her.

Regulus Black had an air of elegance about him that she doubted she'd ever possess. He had it because he was bred as an aristocrat. She admired him for it. An outsider could never guess what disturbed him or what pleased him. He was on another level from everyone.

"My father isn't much of a craftsman," he said, dully. She'd just finished bragging about her parents, something she often did. "He's got a collection of illegal dragon eggs though. It's quite large."

"I wouldn't doubt it. There isn't much the Black family doesn't get that they want." He never spoke about his family, she felt special that he was sharing these things with her. "Though I shouldn't be talking, if I'm honest. My family's come to the point where they too can take whatever they want without compromise."

He frowned faintly, never being big on facial expressions. "It's not like I've had everything thrown at me."

"Yeah, but you're not starting at the bottom of the food chain either," she replied. She could've slapped herself for that. She didn't want to come off so judgmental. "My brother for example doesn't have much talent for crafting," she told him, "I don't know what he'd be suited for. But he's no crafter, it's only because he's a Stirling that he'll get an apprenticeship with my uncle Edgar."

His chilling grey eyes looked up into her brown eyes. She held her breath, telling herself not to blush. "Do you think that's unfair?"

She acted like she was busying herself again with drawing. "My brother's smart enough to be half-decent at the job, I suppose. And our family has worked hard to get where they are now, so I think we're entitled to pamper ourselves."

"Hn."

They were quiet for a moment. He was just watching her draw. She hoped he didn't notice how many times she hesitated, she kept wondering what he was thinking. It was torture.

"So... how do you plan on furthering the glory of the Black family?" she asked with a grin, dropping her quill. Again his eyes found hers. He had his doubts about sharing this part with her, she could tell. But she needed to prove to him that he could share anything with her, she wanted him to. She stopped grinning and lowered her voice, "Going to serve in the legions of the Dark Lord?"

She was aware that there was a chance this might be too presumptuous. There was chance he would be scared off. And for a split second she feared that had happened. "What he's doing... it's like nothing before," he replied slowly, but he gained momentum as he continued, "The Ministry is all about talk and appeasing lesser species. They are prepared to shut the door on our faces just so no more goblins will riot or to keep Muggles in blissful ignorance. They're quick to abandon any strategy that could bring prosperity to the real wizards and witches of our community."

He took a moment to examine her, as if to check she was still with him. She was. She was right there with him. She wasn't going to ridicule his passion like Sirius had.

"Anyway, I think he can bring back the golden age of magic," he said, reigning in his eagerness.

"He's got a no-compromise approach to diplomacy, hasn't he?" she grinned. "Rather forceful… knows how to rile up the sleeping masses."

"A breath of fresh air," he retorted. He almost sounded irritated, like he thought she was patronizing her.

"I agree it's something new, and a little bit of exciting," she told him. It was time she shared something she never shared with anyone else. "Ascanius is looking forward to it, reckons he'll dominate within the next ten years. And he hopes our family can help rebuild our cities… he says the Dark Lord will deserve a kingdom close to paradise."

His lips tugged into a smile, "That'd be cool."

**X  
****X**

Emmeline Vance has been told to only observe and report, not to infiltrate or field questions amongst the Muggles that knew Métis. Leandra however made her way down the apartment floor her Squib cousin lived on, knocking on every door until someone was willing to let her in. Lucky she only had to knock on three doors to arrive at Mrs. Bajrak's.

She was a fifty-year old Romanian Muggle, a widow and her favorite pastime was spying on her neighbors. She spoke English reasonably well, enough to tell Leandra about the last days anyone saw Métis.

"I was sleeping and I hear _knock, knock_," she explained, her eyes wide to emphasis the importance of her story. Her old, weathered hand touched over her heart, "It was very frightening – I have many grandchildren and it is never good to hear news so late in the night. Or so early in the morning, no? So I go to the door thinking the _worst, _but I find Métis."

"Alone?"

Mrs. Bajrak chortled, "Well yes! Métis was always alone, when I see her."

Leandra nodded, "She was a private person. Please go on, I'm sorry for interrupting."

"Oh yes – she is at my door and I am still very, how do you say, shaking? From fear! And I ask her, ' Métis why are you here so late!' And the poor girl tells me, she begs me for food, she says she needs food. Métis is a very small girl, always was, and I always brought some cakes or tarts to her apartment for her," the neighbor told Leandra, "Because I can see she needed food and attention."

"That's very kind," she said. "It was a shame I could not be here more for my sister."

Leandra felt it would be best if she acted as Métis's concerned sister. Ms. Bajrak responded well to the ploy.

"It is hard when family moves away so much," she replied, hardly hiding her disapproval for Leandra's lack of responsibility towards her sister. "But Métis usually always said no to my gifts of food, so this night was very strange. She was begging for food! Not cooked food, but food she could store herself and I think bring with her wherever she was running away to."

"So she never said she was leaving? Even when she took your food?"

Ms. Bajrak shook her head, "I never knew she even had leave. I went to her apartment three times to see how she is doing, but no one ever answered. Then the police came, because they said she took drugs from the hospital," she said knowingly. "I never knew she do that. She was very quiet. But I guess, too quiet? No? Because one day she is _poof_ gone and with all the drugs to pay for a new life."

"You see why I'm so scared for her," said Leandra, stirring her cup of tea over and over again. "Did Métis ever speak about our family to you? About visiting us?"

Ms. Bajrak frowned suspicious, "Your sister never spoke with anyone about anything. I speak with her only of little things. I never knew she was so unhappy to steal drugs! Had I known, I would bring her with me to Church, that would have helped her."

"Yes, I think so too. What was the last thing you spoke to her about?"

The older woman paused to ponder this question. "Well... She did mention Berlin."

Leandra sat up. "Berlin?"

"Because I see that she had a letter in the mail from Berlin," she told her. "Métis never get mail often, so I notice when she does. It was from Berlin and I asked her about who she knows in Berlin."

"And she answered?"

"She said it was from a friend but she did not tell me more," she shrugged. "Like you say, she is private and quiet."

"Did it have a name from the sender?"

Mrs. Bajrak looked offended, "No! I would _never_ read her mail, I only noticed the city it came from. I would never be so rude to _read_ anything more than that!"

"Of course not, I apologize," she said distractedly. In her mind she was planning her next trip to Berlin. "I'm just desperate, ma'am, to find my sister. She's important to me."

**X  
****X**

"Don't you wish we were sitting for our OWLs this year?" Leandra asked as they left the Charms classroom. They'd been practicing the Banishing Charm and Regulus had been the first to perfected it. Leandra was a close second.

Regulus chuckled, "Sorry, can't say I do, Leandra."

Her insides warmed up whenever he said her name. She smiled at him, "But aren't you tired of waiting round to see _real_ magic?"

"I hardly can afford for Transfiguration to get any more _real_."

"You've gotten loads better this year."

"It's still not enough though. Sirius was miles ahead of where I'm at when he was my age. Remember that time, when he turned Avery into a mop as a prank?"

She rolled her eyes, "He's a show off. Besides, we've turned complex mammals into inanimate objects in class already. But on a smaller scale, obviously. Your brother just applied that practice to a different scenario – you could do that too if you tried."

"You might be the only one who thinks that's possible..."

"Well, Reg, I'm not top of our year because I think like everyone else," she replied slyly. He laughed again.

"Oi, have you two heard?" they were interrupted, as was per usual, by one of the Carrow twins. Amycus and Alecto Carrow were in their year and Slytherin too. They were also shameless in their quest to befriend all powerful, pureblood members of Hogwarts. Leandra had mostly burned all bridges with the Carrow twins – they were easy prey for her teasing since they were squat, wheezy and incredibly dumb. Collectively their brains were the size of a walnut. First-year Leandra decorated the commons with Alecto's undergarments. It was only because Leandra was Regulus's friend that they spoke to her.

"For a second there I thought you said oink, Amycus," sneered Leandra, "Instead of oi."

Regulus sniggered as Amycus and Alecto's lips thinned. Anger was beginning to simmer behind their beady eyes. "I bet you haven't heard, you never know what's going on," said Alecto snidely. Leandra spotted a copy of the _Daily Prophet_ tucked under Alecto's arm. "You're too busy showing off in classes. Never mind that there's a whole world out there."

"So tell us what's going on," interrupted Regulus.

"Three Muggle families were murdered this weekend," she presented the newspaper to him. Leandra only glanced over at it, she wasn't going to give the Carrows the satisfaction of seeing her interested in what they brought them. Regulus however read the article, his brow slightly frowned.

"We were just talking about it, what's the Ministry really doing to stop this?" said Amycus, excitedly. "We reckon they've been turning a blind eye about it."

"They want the Mudbloods weeded out as badly as we do."

"Our current Minister was voted into office with a forty-percent lead margin," Regulus said calmly, "Thanks to Muggleborn-voters. He's in debt to them, he's not going to let them be slaughtered."

Leandra's lip turned upward in a triumphant smirk. Regulus clearly still thought the Carrows were idiots. "There's Barty Crouch too, you know," she added. "He's just authorized the use of the Unforgivable Curses against suspects last week."

"Exactly," Regulus returned the paper to Alecto. "The Ministry's desperate, aren't they?"

**X  
****X**

Over fourteen years had gone by and Brutus Stirling had changed. His jawline was less impressive as she remembered, because now he had a double chin. Leandra remembered him to be taller too, with broad shoulders and stocky build. Now he had a beer belly and just seemed rotund. His brown hair was white and his hazel eyes had heavy bags under them. Yet he greeted her with a wide, painful smile that showed off all his teeth – he still had nice teeth.

He lived in a house outside of Berlin. It was more than half the size his house was in the 70's and 80's when she'd last visited him. This house only had two bedrooms, his old house had eight. He used to have more than one house too, but now this was all he had. For such a small space, he retained a lot of furniture and objects. It was very cluttered and everything had accumulated dust – there didn't seem to be an order to things.

"_Why do you worry about __M__é__tis? She is harmless to everyone now," _he said gingerly, still smiling. She didn't return his smile once. She wore clothes like a Muggle to increase his uncomfortableness. She wore dark jeans with a gray blouse and blue blazer. Her hair was up in her lop-sided bun and she wore her glasses. To anyone else she wouldn't appear intimidating, but Brutus was deathly afraid of her sudden reappearance. "_It is good she has left us." _

Her dark, almond eyes roamed the living room for a moment. There was so much stuff, too much for her to search through in one night. _"If she has contacted you, you must tell me. If you tell me the truth now, I will not be angry." _

Brutus grimaced, "_I have not thought of her as my daughter for years now. You know that." _

"_But she will always think of you as her father, because you are a pure-blood,"_ she retorted. _"I do not think you have helped her. I know you haven't, Brutus. But that doesn't mean she hasn't tried to communicate with you." _

His handsome teeth disappeared finally when he frowned. Again he looked tired and weak from time. Behind the weight-gain and age, she saw traces of Breises Stirling. His youngest daughter had his handsome facial structure.

"_I've met Breises," _she told him, speaking gently. This made his eyes sparkle with pride. "_She's beautiful." _

"_And smart," _he smiled again. _"Smarter than I ever was... is she friends with your boy? With Corvus?" _She nodded and she finally gave him a ghost of a smile. It was all he needed. He took a deep breath and stood up. "_Wait here."_

He left, the floor creaked beneath his heavy footfall the entire way to his study at the other end of the house. Leandra sighed with relief – this hadn't been a dead end.

_Crack. _

Leandra flinched slightly as Coco appeared at her side. The house-elf was wearing a pale blue shirt, emblazoned with a silver arrow, a Appleby Arrows jersey. In her tiny hands she held a folder full of paper. Her orb-like eyes were extra wide with anxiety. "Coco stole from the Muggles like Lady Leandra asked her to... even though it feels very wrong to do that."

"Of course I'll return it," the Madam Crafter grinned and took the folder from Coco. It was the police report on Métis, it included a list of the medicine she supposedly stole from the hospital. "Thank you – go back to the hotel, I'll meet you there soon."

Coco's brown eye and blue eye looked around, she was distracted by the clutter and general neglect of the place. For a house-elf, this was displeasing.

"Coco, quickly – you have to leave," she repeated as she heard the creaking begin anew as Brutus returned down the hall. Coco bowed before –

_Crack_.

Leandra slipped the folder into her bag as Brutus entered the living room again. In his hand he had a small letter still sealed in its envelop. "_I never read it,_" he told her, staring at it in his own hands. "_But it was delivered to me a week before Ascanius's death. It is from her." _

She remained silent, though her heart was beating furiously. She took the letter and carefully opened the envelope while Brutus watched apprehensively. Her eyes wandered over the small, tight and neat handwriting of her treacherous cousin;

_Dear Father, _

_Much has been stolen from our family, but you will see it returned and  
__soon I will be the daughter you deserve. Believe in me, father.  
__Love, _Métis

**X  
****X**

Unfortunately she'd slept in that day. She wanted to wake up early to meet Regulus before he went to breakfast. He was always up early the day of a Quidditch match. If you knew Regulus like Leandra did, you could see the signs that he was nervous. There was no reason to be, from her perspective, he almost always caught the Snitch before the other team. He was an excellent player, no one could deny that, not even his opponents in the other Houses.

But he got butterflies every morning before a match and for that reason she always tried to wake up early with him. But that day she'd slept in. She'd rushed to the commons to find he wasn't there, which meant he was in the Great Hall. She tried to refrain from running to him.

He was sitting beside a few of the other Slytherin players and there was a seat empty next him, saved for her. This was a relief, then Leandra noticed who'd be sitting on the other side of her, Kate Winchester. Kate was in their year too and she regarded as being 'fit.' She was blonde with blue eyes and a petite body. There was a rumor circulating that she fancied Regulus.

"I just know we'll win the Quidditch Cup this year," she was telling him. "You've been playing fantastically all season and today's match against Hufflepuff will be easy, but you know that don't you?"

He looked as he always did when socializing, calm and distant. He always maintained eye-contact but you couldn't tell if he cared or not about what you were saying. But when he saw Leandra approaching he broke eye-contact, his grey eyes with specks of green seemed to brighten.

"Sorry I missed you," said Leandra, happily plotting herself between Regulus and Kate.

"Morning, Stirling," Kate greeted coolly.

"Ditto Winchester."

"That's alright," he told Leandra, skipping over Kate's existence. "A few of the lads were up early too, I just ate with them. I want to get out on the pitch soon though, sitting around has lost its charm."

"Oh I just need a piece of toast," she assured him, immediately grabbing a plate of bread nearby. "I'll be ready to go then."

"Take your time," he said as he grabbed her a jar of honey to put on her toast. He knew she liked honey on her toast.

"I'm finished eating," announced Kate, looking eagerly at Regulus, "my meals are always light – so if you want _we_ can head out for the pitch now and Stirling can meet us?"

Leandra glared at Kate out of the corner of her eye. Regulus seemed mildly amused, "I'll wait for Leandra."

_Score one for me, slag_, Leandra thought slyly as she slathered honey on her toast. Poor Kate continued to try and lure Regulus into a stimulating conversation with her, she bragged about her knowledge of Quidditch and her house in south of France where every summer she has a party. She off-handedly invited Leandra after Regulus. Eventually she admitted defeat though, she let Regulus and Leandra leave the Great Hall without following.

One thing Regulus didn't like to do on a game day was talk about the game. He didn't want to jinx himself probably. So instead Leandra blabbered about how last night she read ahead in their Transfiguration textbook and dappled in a few spells to varying results. He listened mostly without speaking, she knew he only wanted something to distract him from his nerves as they neared the pitch.

As the Quidditch arena came into view they came across a group of Slytherins, one of them being her brother, Ascanius Stirling. Leandra liked having her older brother in Hogwarts at the same time she attended. At the beginning she did anyway. She wasn't popular. She had average looks, with messy hair and blue-rimmed glasses. She was mean, arrogant, competitive, selfish... for Merlin's sake, she had to blackmail Regulus into becoming her friend.

But Ascanius Stirling was popular. Two years ahead of her, he was tall, dark and handsome with a pleasant disposition to everyone in Slytherin. The Carrow twins adored Ascanius and he treated them with respect. Leandra never understood how he could stand wasting the energy on the likes of them. But he really was a gentleman – as long as you were at least a half-blood and not a blood-traitor.

He was standing with Antonin Dolohov, Mulciber, Avery, Evan Rosier and Severus Snape. They were huddled together, grinning excitedly as Dolohov spun some tale. Avery and Dolohov had dark smudges on their hands and face.

Ascanius saw her looking over and he waved. She watched as all his friends glanced at her too, she felt slightly flattered to be acknowledged among them. Her relation to her brother made her relevant amongst people in Slytherin. It wasn't like they greeted her, their eyes swept over her practically to Regulus and they wished him luck.

For the match Leandra sat on her own. It always felt awkward to be sitting alone in the stands, even when the other students arrived to fill the seats. Kate Winchester and her female goons took the seats directly behind her. Leandra suspected they chatted and laughed extra loud to make her feel uncomfortable.

Kate Winchester clearly didn't know what she was talking about before, because Hufflepuff was proving to be real contenders for the Cup. Their Chasers were out-preforming Slytherin's the second the whistle blew. The score got so bad that Regulus had to hold off catching the Snitch. He had to concentrate on blocking the other Seeker. Leandra felt anxious for him, she could see the worry etched in his face.

Hufflepuff had scored again when a fight broke out beneath the stands. There were flashes of light and a few angry shouts. People in Leandra's section go up to see what was happening, but she wasn't interested enough to abandon Regulus's game. That was until she heard her name, "Piss off Stirling!"

She turned, Winchester and her friends were watching her, but they realized as Leandra had that whoever said Stirling wasn't talking about her. Leandra got up and leaned over the top banister. It was quite the ruckus. Avery was dangling in the air, cursing passionately. James Potter was wrestling with a layer of black goo that was stuck across his face, probably suffocating him. Dolohov was on the ground, his face red and his eyes watery, glaring at Sirius Black who was the only one with a wand still. He had it aimed on Ascanius.

Whether her brother had his wand or not, she couldn't tell. He looked untouched at least. "This doesn't concern you," snapped Sirius. His chest was heaving. Leandra never saw him this emotional. It was quite satisfying. She always thought he was too smug.

"These are my friends," her brother replied calmly. Sirius took a deep breath, put on his signature, cocky smirk.

"We were just going over some fire-safety regulations with them," he explained. "They needed to catch up on it, since they set Eddie Tower's roof on fire. Figured it was a result of pure stupidity."

"Who's Eddie Tower?" Kate Winchester's friend whispered.

"That Mudblood who lives in Hogsmeade," Winchester answered. Leandra looked up and over to where Hogsmeade was. She could see a coil of black smoke rising in the distance. She remembered the black smudges on Avery and Dolohov.

She turned back to see what her brother's response would be. His lip turned up into a faint grin and didn't say anything for a long moment. All he did was stare Sirius square in the eyes. Finally he spoke, gesturing to Potter, "Aren't you going to help him?"

Professor Kettleburn came upon the scene finally and rounded them up for Filch. While he escorted them back to castle, Leandra reluctantly returned her attention to the game, just when Regulus took a nose-dive for the Snitch. He caught it, Slytherin won.

**X  
****X**

Leandra rarely had guests over. Actually, if she remembered correctly, she hadn't invited a single person over since resuming her real identity two years ago. That night though she had Elizabeth and Dirk Cresswell over for dinner.

Elizabeth Cresswell was an employee at the Stirling Tower, one of Leandra's best and her husband worked at the Ministry. Her husband was Muggleborn as well and his family had a legacy of doctors before he came along. Both his sisters were doctors and his parents. Leandra was in need for a Muggle doctor. She waited until they were onto after dinner sherry to ask him.

"Do you have a lot of knowledge about medicines?" she asked casually. Dirk laughed.

"It's hard not to pick up something along the way, when you grew up in a house like mine."

"Doctors are respected in the Muggle world," she said, still trying to keep it light. "Along with lawyers and bankers – I remember a lot from Muggle Studies."

"i remember I wanted to be a banker once I found out how much they make in the Muggle world," grinned Elizabeth. "But then I realized I'm rubbish at math."

Dirk started to tell a story about one of his friends from kindergarten, who grew up to be a banker. Leandra dropped out of the conversation, her mind was elsewhere. She was trying to imagine the timeline surroundingMétis's disappearance.

Her letter to Brutus was sent a week before Ascanius died. It was sent after she'd left Romania, after she'd stolen the medicines from the hospital. Leandra didn't want to jump to conclusions. It was very unlikely that any of this was connect to Ascanius. He was dead.

Dirk and Elizabeth burst into laughter, cueing Leandra to do the same. Once the laughter quieted, Leandra set her glass down on her long, oak dining table. "You have a beautiful home," complimented Elizabeth. "You designed it yourself, didn't you?"

Leandra smiled and nodded, "It was a wedding gift to ourselves."

She was surprised by how that sad that made her feel suddenly. Her smile flickered and the Cresswells noticed. "It really is beautiful," seconded Dirk.

"Thank you," she said. _No better time than the present, _she told herself. "Dirk, I have an odd request."

He blinked. "Oh?"

"Coco," she turned slightly and her house-elf appeared exactly where her eyes fell. In Coco's hand was a piece of parchment. Written on the parchment was all the names of the stolen medicines. Leandra beckoned for Coco to give the list to Dirk. "I can't tell you much about why I need this favor. If I could, you'd see it's simple really. It's just odd. I need to know what those medicines could be used for."

Dirk glanced sideways to Elizabeth. He couldn't say no to his wife's boss. Leandra suspected Elizabeth earned more, Ministry jobs didn't pay well. Dirk read over the list, "Huh alright."

Elizabeth smiled tentatively, "His parents would probably be very flattered to be asked to help. They have such a curiosity about our world... it's their chance to help."

"Actually," said Dirk, thoughtfully, "I think I'll send this to my sister."

Leandra frowned, "Is she the best doctor in your family?"

"Well, she's good," he replied, "But I'd send her this list because she's a cardiologist. I recognize a few of these names, they're used for treating heart disease."

Her insides froze. "Heart disease?"

Dirk nodded, pointing at some name, "I could be wrong, but I remember this one's a digitalis, they're used to change normal heart activity. They can make the heart's action erratic while these... these would slow the heart rate. Yeah, I'm sure she'll know these."

"Leandra, are you alright?" asked Elizabeth. Leandra was suddenly very pale.

Ascanius had died due to a sudden heart failure.

**X  
****X**

At the beginning of the summer term of Leandra's forth year and Ascanius's sixth, news reached Hogwarts that Alan Bloom was found, mangled and murdered, in the Thames River. He'd been missing for six weeks. His only daughter, Erica Bloom, was a Hufflepuff in Leandra's year. It was the first time someone at Hogwarts was so directly affected, and Ascanius felt compelled to watch the show.

He stood in the Entrance Hall with his friend, Antonin Dolohov. They could hear hysterical sobbing as Bloom and her House's Prefect returned from Dumbledore's office. When the two Hufflepuffs descended the stairs and saw the Slytherins, they froze.

"Minister's going to have to drain the entire Thames River, it's polluted with Mudblood now, isn't it?" sneered Antonin with a cruel grin. Ascanius watched Bloom's face pale behind the tears.

"You bastard," hissed the Prefect. She wrapped her arms around Bloom, as if to protect her. "Piss off! Both of you! Fifty points off Slytherin."

Antonin laughed loudly over her indignation, "Shove it, Grant. House points are meaningless."

"I'm going to report you – "

"Haven't you figured it out yet? This isn't going to stop," he proclaimed. Ascanius kept his dark eyes on Erica Bloom. He studied her blotchy, tear-stained face, the way her lip was glistening in snot and relentlessly quivered. She was small, petite, like a kitten. Clearly the runt of her litter. She was pathetic and weak. It made him uncomfortable, frustrated and angry. "Learn from your Daddy's death, Bloom! Learn your place."

"That is enough!" Grant released Bloom to reach for her wand. But with a lazily wave of Ascanius's wand, she was disarmed. Antonin roared with laughter.

"Any wizard who shows fondness for the society of Muggles is of low intelligence," Ascanius spoke carefully, "with magic so feeble and pitiful that he can only feel himself superior if surrounded by Muggle pigmen."

Antonin grunted in agreement.

"And you," he moved his wand to Bloom. She was shaking and looked mad with fear. Her eyes were pleading with his, but he remained impervious to her pitifulness. "You make me sick."

* * *

...

...

Blast from the past! I was going to continue this chapter from where I left off last time, with Sirius talking about Crouch and blah blah, but I couldn't come up with good points for Corvy to interject. It just felt unnecessary, and this was sooooo much more fun to write! Regulus and Leandra smitten kittens! I hope all my STAR readers enjoyed! Sorry for the delay, as per usual... Next chapter: Corvus has to adapt to a world without Anwar and Louis... Career advice... studying for OWLs... the Madness of Mr. Crouch!

I have outline the next four chapters... hopefully I can finish all GoF portions of this story!

R&R


	27. The Madness of Mr Crouch

**The Madness of Mr. Crouch**

The day after meeting Sirius, Corvus went up to the Owlery before breakfast to send a letter to his mother again. She hadn't replied yet to any of his other letters. At this point all he wanted to know was if she was alright. He tried to use Pangloss, but when he approached his perch he screeched at him and flew to a higher perch. Clearly Pangloss was off-limits now. He used a school owl instead.

Delicious smells wafted towards him as he approached the Great Hall, but he couldn't take comfort in that. He knew things with the Salesmen still hadn't blown over. He had to brace himself as he came upon the Slytherin table.

Louis was sitting in the middle of the Quidditch team again, with Draco Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle sitting across from him. They were talking and laughing loudly – Corvus wondered if that was just to make him feel uncomfortable. Next to them was Anwar with Adrian Pucey. His Potions textbook was out, Pucey was talking him through something. Pucey had gotten an "Outstanding" in his Potions OWL last year. Daphne was between Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini, she didn't bat an eye when Corvus sulked by, looking for a spare seat.

"Corvus!"

Breises waved him over to the very front of the table – the total fringes of society. Max was with her and the rest of the Durmstrang students, including Viktor Krum. Corvus hoped Louis was bothered by the fact that Viktor Krum wasn't sitting by him. It wasn't very glamorous sitting with Krum's group though, they talked Bulgarian to each other and only switched to English when they remembered they were being rude.

"What do they want from us?" hissed Corvus to Max, glaring at the heart of the Slytherin table where the other Salesmen were. "We apologized already."

Max frowned deeply and cocked his head, "Did we?"

"Pretty much, I don't know."

"Anwar and Daphne's turn tomorrow tonight," he said quietly. "Reckon they won't do it."

"Reckon they won't see any Galleons then."

Louis's gang burst into laughter, interrupting Corvus's anger and he felt a pang of something like homesickness. Whatever joke was told was being passed around because soon Anwar broke into a grin and Daphne laughed. While this joy was being spread, Louis spied Corvus watching them and he sent him a malicious smirk. Corvus looked away.

"Corvus," Breises said, deferring the attention, "Where is Veronique?"

"Huh..." he couldn't believe he forgot about her. She wasn't seated at the Slytherin table and neither was Rebecca.

"Over there," said Max, pointing to the Ravenclaw table. Rebecca and Veronique were back to sitting with the Beauxbatons students. Rebecca was glancing at the Slytherin table longingly though.

"She's probably still upset about yesterday," sighed Corvus and he briefly explained how he'd left her to shop alone.

"That wasn't nice," said Breises, disapprovingly.

"What did you have to do at Hogsmeade?" wondered Max.

"Something for my mother," he said quickly. Breises nodded as if she understood now why Corvus had to slight Veronique. Max remained a little wary, but he didn't pry any further. The rest of breakfast was spent in relative silence on Max and Corvus's part.

Breises and Max went on a private walk through the grounds before Max was going to join his study group in the library, leaving Corvus to fend for himself. As it was an irritable sort of day, Corvus kept to his dorm room. He finally studied in earnest for his OWLs.

**X  
****X**

"Father wants us to buy more property this summer, we've already made arrangements to visit a few places in Spain," drawled Malfoy. By breakfast the next morning sitting arrangements had changed again. Now Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle were sitting with him. Rebecca had returned to sitting at the Slytherin table, which meant Louis wasn't as available to entertain. "Your family has a lot of property, whereabouts?"

Corvus shrugged, "Pretty much everywhere. My mum's got them drawn on a map somewhere."

"Real estate property is very smart, isn't it? I think I'll do that when I'm out of school, own real estate," he said as the post owls arrived. Corvus looked up eagerly. "Are you expecting mail?" asked Malfoy, glancing up too. "I've just renewed my subscription to the _Daily Prophet_, I mean I had to what with Skeeter's groundbreaking reports."

Corvus grinned at Malfoy's comment but he grew serious again when the barn owl he'd sent out yesterday flew down to him. He quickly untied the letter from its leg and saw his mother's handwriting on the front. A big wave of relief swept over him as he tore it open;

_Dear Corvus, _

_I've just returned, safe and sound. My trip was educational and I'm  
still waiting to hear back about a few things. Mr. Crouch was sneaking  
into Snape's office? That makes no sense to me, I will try to find out  
what I can about what's going on in the Ministry. I have a meeting  
with a few officials next week. I'm glad to hear you didn't let Harry  
go alone to investigate Crouch's break-in._

_Sadly I don't have the time to visit you before the Third Task, a lot of  
work piled up when I was gone. I understand that Padfoot is in  
Hogsmeade, please make sure he gets something to eat. _

_I love you and I hope you've been studying for your OWLs.  
__Mum_

"Who's writing Granger?" scoffed Malfoy. Corvus looked over at the Gryffindor table. Granger had a flock of owls around her, all itching to deliver their letter to her first. She exasperatedly opened letter after letter until she opened one that gushed a yellowish green liquid all over her hands.

"That's undiluted Bubotuber pus," grinned Corvus once the smell of petrol wafted over to them. Malfoy stood up from his seat to watch Granger hurried out of the Great Hall, cradling her hands. Corvus sniggered along with his distant cousin when someone lightly tapped him on the shoulder.

It was Daphne. "Can I talk to you?"

She was alone, Louis and Anwar had their backs to them. Suspicious, he nodded and got up to follow her into the Entrance Hall. They checked no one was nearby, then Daphne began, "Tonight's supposed to be Anwar and my turn."

"Right, I know," he crossed his arms.

"We've talked about it, us three – them two are well vexed at you and Max. I understand why I wasn't included, I just joined this year," she explained. "They want repatriations."

"What?"

"How long did it take you and Max to become... you know," she wisely didn't say it out loud.

"We started it our third year, we told you that."

"So that's about eighteen months altogether, of time you went behind Louis and Anwar's back – "

"We weren't going behind anyone's back!"

She gave him a skeptical look, "What would you call it then?"

He scowled at her, "We just didn't tell them what we were doing."

"You're right, that's completely different."

"Get to the point, Daphne. What do they want? It's not like we can magically turn them into.. you know what."

"Like I said, they want repatriations," she repeated. "They want to be paid ten percent more for the next eighteen months."

"What?" he gasped. "No!"

She nodded, "I reckoned you'd say that."

He was fuming. How could Anwar and Louis do this to him? Weren't they friends? They were giving him the silent treatment and now they were demanding more money. They were ridiculous. He glared harshly at Daphne, enough to make her back away. "And what about you?" he spat. "What do you want?"

"Nothing," she told him. "I told you, I'm not angry I wasn't included."

"You're still on our side then?" he leered. Her eyes flashed dangerously.

"I'm not picking a side," she snapped at him, standing up to his foul mood. "I'm just a mediator until you boys come up with a compromise. Talk to Max and come up with something, because I know Louis and Anwar don't want out. Their egos have just been hurt, that's all, and you have to admit what you did was a rubbish thing to do to your friends."

"We didn't mean it to be," he grumbled.

"You knew you were doing something bad if you weren't telling them," she retorted.

He rolled his eyes, "Yeah, alright I guess I understand where they're coming from. What about the shift tonight?"

"I'll be showing up," she shrugged as the bell rang for class. Corvus had Arithmancy with Max, he immediately filled him in on the ludicrous demands Louis and Anwar were making. His second-in-command agreed there was no way they were going to give in to terms like that.

"It's good they're open to negotiations or what," he said as they passed up their homework to the front of the class. "It's weird not having them speak to us."

**X  
****X**

The rest of the week went a little more smoothly now that Daphne was talking to them again. It was mostly to Corvus's benefit really. Max had his study group and Breises to distract him from his lack of friends in Slytherin, Corvus was alone. Too much time had pass to mend things with Veronique, she didn't even look at him anymore and he was never able to come up with the right words to make her forgive him. If Louis was still talking to him, he would probably tell Corvus how to fix things.

Having Daphne again meant he didn't have to make small talk with the Durmstrang students at dinner or suffer through Malfoy's constant trash-talk about Potter. She wasn't available all the time, she still hung out with her own friends like Theodore Nott. Blaise Zabini was still around too. She also spent time with Louis and Anwar in the commons a few nights. But when Corvus was left friendless he simply left to explore Hogwarts grounds in his Animagus form. That helped pass the time.

Daphne did join him often in the library to help him study for his OWLs. As the Easter holidays approached both of them had mounting workloads, they ended up spending most of their free time together in the library then.

"Have you guys come up with deal yet?" she asked him the night before the holidays. She was going back home for Easter, Max too, which meant Corvus would be alone again. Studying would keep him occupied at least.

"Nah, not yet," he yawned. They were walking back from the library. He was exhausted from staring into textbooks all evening.

"They miss you and Max," she said. She was hugging her own books to her chest and she looked worn out too. Still, looking at her then, he suddenly remember how pretty she looked the night of the Yule Ball. "They don't say it, but I can tell."

"Why don't they just stop acting like wankers then?" he asked. She laughed but didn't answer.

Over the Easter holidays Corvus thought about Sirius holed up in his cave with no one but Buckbeak for company. His mother wanted him to make sure he was eating properly, but he was certain Potter was taking care of that. Besides, Corvus was approaching a defining moment in his educational career and as if to underline the importance of his upcoming examinations, a bath of pamphlets, leaflets and notices concerning various wizarding professions appeared on the tables in Slytherin dungeon shortly before the end of the holidays. There was also a notice on the board:

_CAREERS ADVICE  
__All fifth-years are required to attend a short meeting with their  
__Head of House during the first week of the summer term to discuss  
__their future careers. Times of individual appointments are listed below._

"Finally," huffed Brazda as she looked for her name on the list. She'd also stayed at school for the holidays, she claimed their were less distractions here. Milvina Fox stayed too because Brazda was tutoring her.

"I'm at half past one on Monday," said Milvina, concerned. "I'll be missing Transfiguration, I can't afford missing any review classes. Mara, please switch with me."

"No," she said firmly. Brazda's meeting was on Monday morning, she'd miss History of Magic. "Professor Snape won't appreciate us making a fuss over this, it's only a short meeting."

Corvus was scheduled as the absolute last on Wednesday afternoon, he'd miss Muggle Studies. On the final weekend of the Easter holidays everyone came back – Louis and Anwar were still not talking to Corvus or Max. An alternative compromise hadn't been drawn up either, neither of them had time to really devote energy to the issue.

"We're going to have an increase in sales," warned Corvus as he watched Max unpack his suitcase full of textbooks. "Everyone's going to want study-aids, intelligence-boosting potions, luck-charms and who knows what. They always do. And I for one don't look forward to having to take on three shifts a week to manage it. Even if I can fly back and forth, it's bloody inconvenient. I've got to study too, mate."

"I know," he said calmly, "And they know it too. They think they've got the upper hand because of it. But they also know, this season brings in a lot of profit. Profit we're in control of."

Corvus sighed, "I guess... so what, we wait until they come crawling back for the money?"

Max half-smirked, "If they don't we'll make an offer the week of our OWLs. I wager we won't have to though."

He marveled at how ruthless his friend could be and wondered if he'd treat Corvus like this were things different. There was a side to Corvus, probably the side occupied by his ego, that didn't want to fold either.

**X  
****X**

"Jamal don't make me send you to 's in a matchbox," threatened Corvus, his hand clenched round his wand. Jamal had the chain-lock on his door and he was peering through the crack at Corvus and Daphne standing at his door. He didn't look comfortable at the thought of a duel against Corvus.

"I told you, my loyalties lie with my brother," he said shakily. "I don't know what happened between you two, but I know he's protesting and I will stand by him. I will _not_ work for you."

"Did he ask you to stop working for us?" demanded Daphne, nearly equal to Corvus's anger.

"No, Anwar isn't the type to ask for support," he said smugly, "But I know my brother."

"Your brother's going to laugh when he finds out," said Corvus. "And when Anwar comes crawling back to finally work again, he'll have to fix the damage _you've_ done to our reputation. Good luck with that." With that he waved his wand and the door slammed shut, frightening Jamal on the other end.

It was Tuesday night, their usual day to pick up and drop off orders at Jamal's. Both of them returned to the Shrieking Shack empty-handed, "We're going to have to refund everyone's money," he told her as he unlocked the bedroom door on the second floor. This was where they kept the deposits.

"Why don't you and Max double their pay for a month?" she asked, heatedly. "It would be enough plus an apology! Really, Corvus, we need Jamal. We need Anwar. We need Louis – before Easter we had to turn down two orders for false doctor notes because no one can forge signatures like Louis."

"Don't worry about them, we've got it figured out," he told her. She sighed exasperatedly and went downstairs, mumbling something about checking the Tentettes.

Corvus went to bed that night in a bad mood and woke up still pissed off. By the end of the day he was in such a bad mood by the time he got to Muggle Studies that he had forgotten his careers appointment with Snape. He only remembered it because Cormac McLaggen was boasting about how Professor McGonagall said he had what it took to be an Auror. He hurtled back downstairs and arrived out of breath, with only seconds to spare.

"Pleased to see you're so excited for this meeting, Black," Snape said softly as Corvus closed the door. "You had me in suspense about whether you'd actually show... and I was having such a good day. Sit."

Corvus sat down, still trying to get to his normal heart beat.

"This meeting is to talk over any career ideas you might have," said Snape. His hand lazily shuffled the many pamphlets littered on his desk. "But let me guess – you want to be a Crafter like mummy dearest, don't you?"

He figured this meeting was going to go badly, obviously, it _was_ Snape, so he let the jibe pass. To show how comfortable he was under the Potion Master's contemptible stare, he slouched in his seat, sticking out his legs and crossed his arms. "Yeah, and I know what subjects I'll need to take. To be a Crafter I'll need at least six NEWTs and I'll need an apprenticeship. I wonder where I'll get one? The subjects they're looking for though, normally, are Transfiguration – which I'm averaging "Outstanding" in at the moment, I'm sure you know – Defense Against the Dark Arts, Charms, Astronomy, Herbology, Muggle Studies – "Outstanding" in those subjects as well this year of course – Arithmancy and Ancient Runes – I've been preforming between an "Outstanding" and "Exceeds Expectations" in those subjects this year, but I'll be fine for my exams, I just need to buckle down y'know."

"Well, you're set aren't you? Don't need anyone's advice..."

"Not about being a Crafter, sir," he said pleasantly. It felt nice to lash out finally at someone who deserved it. "I was toying around the time of taking Potions as well, for fun, since I reckon I can get an "Outstanding" if I wanted to, but that's quite a workload. I don't fancy burning out early."

The vein on Snape's forehead was pulsing. "I apologize for wasting your time then, Black, clearly you didn't need this meeting. You're free to go," he gestured to the door. "And may I just say, it'll be a relief to no longer having to make room in my classroom for your gigantic head come next term."

Corvus smirked at him and got up. But when he got to the door an idea stuck him. Sirius had told him and the Gryffindor Trio about Snape being a possible Death Eater. Corvus was the closest out of all of them to the Death Eater-sympathizers in Slytherin, it was about time he encouraged one of them to share what they knew.

"What's wrong, Black? Forgot how to use a door?" drawled Snape. He was scribbling notes down about their meeting. Corvus could only guess what nasty things he had to report. Corvus turned back to face him.

"Actually sir, there is another career path I've thought about pursuing," he started. Snape looked up, unamused and silently demanding that he get to the point. "The world's changing, isn't it? Ministry's been acting funny and well... I don't know, I feel a change in the wind. Makes me think about all the magic I haven't learned, magic that isn't taught at Hogwarts."

Snape laid down his quill.

"People know _of_ the old magic, the really powerful stuff, but I've always wondered what I'd have to do to really learn it." He could see that Snape was taking the bait. His normal detest that he possessed when looking at Corvus was waning. "I've heard rumors about how there's magic that guards you against mortal death even... I heard a powerful wizard achieved that, a very powerful and infamous wizard... You know who I'm talking about, sir?"

His black eyes narrowed, Corvus knew he'd made a mistake then. The Potion Master's face had turned white with rage and with a shaking hand he pointed to his door. "Get out," he hissed through bared teeth. "Get out."

**X  
****X**

At first Corvus thought his failed impromptu ploy would have dire consequences for him in all future Potion classes, but Snape remained at the same level of nastiness towards him. Corvus even suspected Snape ignored him a little more, which was nice.

By the start of the summer term, nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Louis and Anwar were still not communicating with them, but the tension was dying out due to OWLs mania. "It's actually suffocating to be in here," commented Corvus, nervously rubbing the back of his neck. He was in the library again with Daphne. It was the last week of May, every time Corvus thought about that his heart raced.

"It doesn't feel any different than usual," she shrugged. "Library's normally stuffy."

"This is different... I shouldn't be nervous, I've never been afraid of an exam."

"These are the mother of all exams, aren't they?"

"Yeah... I need to get out of here. Going for fresh air, want to come with?"

She frowned, "What time is it?"

He took out his pocket-watch, "Half past eight."

"I'm meeting someone at nine, actually," she said, blushing.

"So? There's time. Do you want to go or not?"

"Not really, I need to... get ready."

"Ready? To meet someone? What is it a – " he cut himself off as it dawned on him. Daphne was going on a date? "It's not even a Hogsmeade day."

"Whatever, it's none of your business," she mumbled. She gathered up her homework. "It's not what you think, we're just hanging out tonight."

"Alone?"

She blushed more deeply, "I'll see you later."

He watched her hurry out of the library. Corvus used his wand to gather up his belongings. He was so busy thinking about how embarrassed Daphne got about her date that he didn't even gloat to himself that he'd used non-verbal magic to gather his stuff.

Before going out Corvus went to drop off his pocket-watch in his dorm room. In _Best of All Worlds_ it's advised not to Transfigure with solid objects on your body. There's no telling if their transfiguring will malfunction. The author of the book described an incident where his wedding ring ended up lodged in his small intestine after a transfiguration. Corvus didn't like the thought of that.

Once he was free of all heavy, solid silver objects, he went onto the grounds and ducked behind one of the greenhouses. Transforming into his magpie form, he took flight into the dark night. He glided along the Forbidden Forest's rustling treetops. He heard screeching of a pair of owls leaving the Owlery and he thought about chasing after them to see if they wanted to play. But as he darted over, he noticed something had changed on the Quidditch pitch.

The pitch was no longer smooth and flat. It looked as though somebody had been building long, low walls all over it, twisting and crisscrossing in every direction. They were hedges. From his aerial point of view he could see that they were building a maze. A hand-full of Crafters were sauntering through the hedges, trimming a few of the rebellious ones.

In the middle of the pitch stood Ludo Bagman with the Champions. Corvus cawed and lowered himself to perch on top of one of the hedges nearby them. "Hagrid is providing a number of creatures... then there will be spells that must be broken... all that sort of thing, you know. Now, the champions who are leading on points will get a head start into the maze," Bagman grinned at Potter and Diggory. "Then Mr. Krum will enter... then Miss Delacour. But you'll all be in with a fighting chance, depending on how well you get past the obstacles. Should be fun, eh?"

In his mind, Corvus sniggered at the look on Potter's face. He certainly didn't think this sounded fun, but he politely nodded like the other champions.

"Very well... if you haven't got any questions, we'll go back up to the castle, shall we, it's a bit chilly..."

Corvus was turning his head this way and that, thinking about what part of the maze to explore first, when he heard Krum's voice. "Could I haff a vord?"

He saw him by Potter, who looked surprise. "Yeah, all right."

"Vill you valk with me?"

"Ok..." said Potter curiously. Bagman was nearby and looked slightly perturbed, "I'll wait for you Harry, shall I?"

"No, it's okay, Mr. Bagman," said Potter, suprressing a smile. "I think I can find the castle on my own, thanks."

Corvus cawed, angry at how stupid Potter was being. He shouldn't be walking off with Krum alone! He took off into the air and followed above the two champions as they left the stadium. Krum was leading them towards the Forest.

"Don't vant to be overheard," said Krum shortly. When at last they had reached a quiet stretch of ground, a short way from the Beauxbatons' horses' paddock, Krum stopped in the shade of the trees and turned to Potter. Corvus landed on the lowest branch of the tree so he could hear perfectly what they were saying.

"I vant to know," said Krum, "vot there is between you and Hermy-own-ninny."

Corvus suppressed another caw, this had caught him off guard. It was actually quite funny. "Nothing," said Potter, staring at Krum in amazement. "We're friends. She's not my girlfriend and she never has been. It's just that Skeeter woman making things up."

"Hermy-own-ninny talks about you very often," said Krum, suspicious.

"Yeah, because we're _friends_."

"You haff never... you haff not..."

"No."

Krum looked slightly happier. He stared at Potter for a few seconds, then said, "You fly very well. I vos votching at the first task."

Corvus gave a mental roll of the eyes as Potter began to compliment Krum on his Quidditch abilities as well. "The Wronski Feint, you really – "

But something moved behind Krum in the trees. Corvus cawed and leapt into the air, circling around to watch as a man staggered out from behind a tall oak.

It was Mr. Crouch. He looked as though he had been traveling for days. The knees of his robes were ripped and bloody, his face scratched, he was unshaven and grey with exhaustion. His strange appearance was nothing to the way he was behaving. Muttering and gesticulating, Mr. Crouch appeared to be speaking to someone that he alone could see.

"Vosn't he a judge?" said Krum, staring at Mr. Crouch. "Isn't he vith your Ministry?"

Potter nodded, hesitated for a moment, then walked slowly towards Mr. Crouch, who did not look at him, but continued to talk to a nearby tree. "... and when you've done that, Weatherby, send an owl to Dumbledore confirming the number of Durmstrang students who will be attending the Tournament, Karkaroff has just sent word there will be twelve..."

"Mr. Crouch?" said Potter cautiously.

"... and then send another owl to Madam Maxime, because she might want to up the number of students she's bringing, now Karkaroff's made it a round dozen... do that Weatherby, will you? Will you? Will..." His eyes were bulging. He stood staring at the tree, muttering soundlessly at it. Then he staggered sideways, and fell to his knees.

"Mr. Crouch?" Potter said loudly. "Are you all right?"

Crouch's eyes were rolling in his head. "Vot is wrong with him?" asked Krum.

"No idea," muttered Potter. "Listen, you'd better go and get someone – "

"Dumbledore!" gasped Mr. Crouch. He reached out and seized a handful of Harry's robes, dragging him closer, though his eyes were staring over Potter's head. Corvus cawed in alarm and swooped down behind the Beauxbatons' horses' paddock. He untransfigured himself and crouched along the walls of the paddock before stepping out to sprint towards Potter and Krum.

"I've done... stupid... thing..." Mr. Crouch was breathing as Corvus ran up to them. Potter and Krum were confused and shocked by his appearance.

"Corvus, vot are you doing here?"

He wasn't concerned with coming up with a plausible excuse, he went straight to Mr. Crouch and Potter. Crouch was leaning nearly his entire body weight on Potter and there was no way of loosening his grip on his robes.

Crouch's eyes were rolling and bulging, and a trickle of spittle was sliding down his chin. Every word he spoke seemed to cost him a terrible effort. "Must... tell.. Dumbledore..."

"Get up, Mr. Crouch," said Potter loudly and clearly. "Get up, I'll take you to Dumbledore!"

"Yeah, you have to get up to see Dumbledore," grunted Corvus. Crouch was a heavy man. Krum was hanging back, looking extremely nervous. Crouch's eyes rolled forwards onto Potter.

"Who... you?" he whispered.

"I'm a student at the school."

"You're not... _his?_"

"No."

"Who is he talking about?" hissed Corvus. Potter gave him a clueless look.

"Dumbledore's?" whispered Crouch.

"That's right," said Potter. Crouch pulled him closer.

"Mr. Crouch, let go of him," said Corvus loudly, trying to push him off Potter. But he was freakishly strong.

"Warn... Dumbledore..."

"I'll get Dumbledore if you let go of me," said Potter. "Just let go, Mr. Crouch, and I'll get him..."

"Thank you, Weatherby, and when you have done that, I would like a cup of tea. My wife and son will be arriving shortly, we are attending a concert tonight with Mr. and Mrs. Fudge." Crouch was now talking fluently to a tree again, and seemed completely unaware that Potter was there. Both Potter and Corvus were so surprised they didn't realize he'd released Potter. "Yes, my son recently gained twelve OWLs, most satisfactory, yes, thank you, yes, very proud indeed..."

"Do you think he's been cursed?" wondered Corvus, staring at the madman. Potter peered up at him, again confused about his presence but recognizing now was not the time to ask about it.

"I don't know," he said quietly. Then he looked to Krum. "You stay here with him! We'll get Dumbledore, we'll be quicker, we know where his office is – "

"He is mad," said Krum, doubtfully.

"Just stay with him," said Potter, starting to get up, but his movement seemed to trigger another abrupt change in Mr. Crouch, who made to seize him again. Corvus was quick to react though, he moved between them, falling to the ground with Crouch and perfecting Potter from him. But Crouch reached frantically for him, grabbing at the hem of his robes desperately.

"Don't... leave... me!" he whispered, his eyes bulging again. "I escaped... must wanr... must tell... see Dumbledore... my fault... all my fault... Bertha... dead... all my fault... my son... my fault... tell Dumbledore... Harry Potter... Stirling... the Dark Lord... stronger... Harry Potter..."

Corvus nearly lost his hold on Crouch, his words left him feeling bewildered. He said _Stirling_. There was only one Stirling worth mentioning, wasn't there?

"I'll get Dumbledore if you let me go, Mr. Crouch," said Potter, pulling himself free of Mr. Crouch. He looked furiously around at Krum. "Help us, will you?"

Looking extremely apprehensive, Krum moved forward and squatted down next to Crouch and Corvus.

"Just keep him here," said Potter, speaking more to Corvus than Krum. "I'll be back with Dumbledore."

"Hurry, von't you?" Krum called after him as he sprinted away from the forest, and up through the dark grounds.

"Dammit!" cursed Corvus suddenly. "Potter doesn't know the password to Dumbledore's office."

"You von't leave me, vill you?" he stood up.

Crouch was becoming docile again, muttering soundlessly to himself. He released him and got back up on his feet. Corvus thought about leaving Crouch in Krum's care, as a magpie he'd be able to beat Potter to the castle. But then he looked at Crouch. "What about Stirling?"

Crouch stared blankly at Corvus.

"Tell me, Mr. Crouch, what do you know about Stirling? What do you know about the Dark Lord?"

"No... I need... must warn... Dumbledore..." he trembled. Corvus stepped towards Crouch slowly.

"But, Barty, it's me, Albus Dumbledore," he said soothingly. Crouch's eyes widened in astonishment and he started to pant.

"Vot are you doing?" whispered Krum. Corvus held his hand up for him to remain silent.

"Dumbledore... Dumbledore?"

"Yes, Barty, it's me," he repeated. "You're safe, Barty, tell me everything. Why are you scared? What do you know?"

Crouch shook his head frantically. "No, no, no..."

Corvus felt for his wand, wondering if he should use transfiguration to make himself look like the Headmaster. While thinking it over, Krum flinched and looked at the trees nearby. "Did you heard that?"

He shook his head and concentrated on Crouch.

"Maybe Potter is back?" said Krum. He wandered in the direction Potter went, looking up at the castle and his back facing Corvus and Crouch.

"Tell me about Stirling, Barty Crouch. I'm Dumbledore, you can trust me. You are safe." Crouch still looked frightened, but Corvus could tell he was slowly coming round. He just had to keep telling him he was Dumbledore and he was safe. He knelt before him and placed his hand on his shoulder. He shuddered under the touch. "You are safe, Barty. No one's going to hurt you."

"My son... my fault, all my fault... with the Dark Lord... they are going to get him... Harry Potter... it's my fault..."

Just then Corvus heard a twig snap and there were bright flashes of red light. Crouch gave a blood chortling scream. Then everything went dark.

**X**  
**X**

The next thing he remembered was blinking. He was lying on the ground. At first he couldn't comprehend was he was seeing. There was a light above him and a lot of darkness, but then he noticed there were two figures standing over him. It was Dumbledore and Potter.

"Lie still, Corvus," said Dumbledore, his half-moon glasses glittered in the wandlight. Corvus weakly nodded. He turned his head to find Krum sprawled on the floor a few steps away.

"What happened?" he asked, dazed. His body felt heavy, like he wouldn't be able to move it if he wanted to.

"I don't know," said Potter. Dumbledore bent over Krum, pointed his wand at him, and muttered, "_Enervate."_

"I was stunned?" Corvus frowned. He knew _Enervate_ was the counter-curse to a Stunning Spell, it was one of the spells he had to know for his OWLs.

"He attacked me!" muttered Krum, putting a hand to his head. "The old madman attacked me! I vos looking around to see vare Potter had gone and he attacked from behind!"

"Lie still for a moment," said Dumbledore.

The sound of thunderous footfalls reached them. Corvus squeezed his eyes shut as he felt the vibrations in the earth, it was sending his head spinning. "Professor Dumbledore! Harry – what the – ?"

"Hagrid, I need you to fetch Professor Karkaroff," said Dumbledore. "His student has been attacked. When you've done that, kindly alert Professor Moody – "

"No need, Dumbledore," said a wheezy growl, "I'm here." Corvus opened his eyes to see Moody limping towards them, leaning on his staff, his wand lit. "Damn leg," he said furiously. "Would've been here quicker... what's happened? Snape said something about Crouch – "

"Crouch?" said Hagrid, blankly.

"Karkaroff, please, Hagrid!" said Dumbledore sharply.

"Oh yeah... right y'are, Professor..." Hagrid turned and disappeared into the dark trees, his large bloodhound trotting behind him.

"I don't know where Barty Crouch is," Dumbledore told Moody, "but it is essential we find him."

"I'm onto it," growled Moody, and he limped off into the forest. Corvus started to wiggle his fingers in the blades of grass under him. The fatigue and dizziness was quickly wearing off now. No one spoke until they heard the unmistakable sounds of Hagrid and Fang returning. Corvus sat up now, wincing at the pain in his head, and he watched as Karkaroff hurried along behind them. He was wearing his sleek silver furs, and he looked pale and agitated.

"What is this?" he cried, seeing Krum still on the ground. "What's going on?"

I vos attacked!" said Krum, sitting up now too and rubbing his head. "Mr. Crouch or votever his name – "

"Crouch attacked you? _Crouch_ attacked you? The Triwizard judge?"

"Igor," Dumbledore began, but Karkaroff had drawn himself up, clutching his furs around him, looking livid.

"Treachery!" he bellowed, pointing at Dumbledore. "It is a plot! You and your Ministry of Magic have lured me here under false pretences, Dumbledore! This is not an equal competition! First you sneak Potter into the Tournament, though he is underage! Now one of your Ministry friends attempts to put _my _champion out of action!"

"I was attacked too," interjected Corvus, giving Karkaroff a nasty look. It was mainly because his shouting wasn't helping his headache.

"A clever diversion!" he declared. "I smell double-dealing and corruption in this whole affair, and you, Dumbledore, you, with your talk of closer international wizarding links, of rebuilding old ties, of forgetting old differences – here's what I think of _you!" _

Karkaroff spat onto the ground at Dumbledore's feet. In one swift movement, Hagrid seized the front of Karkaroff's furs, lifted him into the air and slammed him against a nearby tree. "Apologize," he snarled as Karkaroff gasped for breath.

"Hagrid, _no!_" shouted Dumbledore, his eyes flashing. Hagrid removed the hand pinning Karkaroff to the tree, and Karkaroff slid all the way down the trunk and slumped in a huddle at its roots. A few twigs and leaves showered down upon his head. "Kindly escort Harry and Corvus back up to the castle, Hagrid," said Dumbledore, sharply.

Breathing heavily, Hagrid gave Karkaroff a glowering look. "Maybe I'd better stay here, Headmaster..."

"You will take Harry and Corvus back to school, Hagrid," Dumbledore repeated firmly. "Take Harry right up to Gryffindor Tower and Corvus to see Madam Pomfrey. And Harry – I want you to stay there. Anything you might want to do – any owls you might want to send – they can wait until morning, do you understand me?"

"Er – yes."

"Corvus, please remain in the hospital wing tonight," he said, holding out his hand to help him to his feet. His legs felt wobbly but he didn't stagger. "In the morning, I'll come to speak with you about what happened tonight, but only once you've had the chance to rest."

"Alright, sir."

"I'll leave Fang with yeh, Headmaster," said Hagrid, still staring menacingly at Karkaroff, who was still sprawled at the foot of the tree, tangled in furs and tree-roots. "Stay, Fang. C'mon, boys."

They marched in silence past the Beauxbatons carriage and up towards the castle. Corvus moved slower than usual, a few times Potter glanced over looking worried.

"How dare he," growled Hagrid as they strode past the lake. "How dare he accuse Dumbledore. Like Dumbledore'd do anything like that. Like Dumbledore wanted _you_ in the Tournament in the firs' place. Worried! I dunno when I seen Dumbledore more worried than he's bin lately. An' you!" Hagrid suddenly said angrily to Potter, who looked up at him, taken aback. "What were yeh two doin', wanderin' off with ruddy Krum? He's from Durmstrang! Coulda jinxed yeh right there couldn't he? Good thing Corvus was there. Hasn't Moody taught yeh nothin'? 'Magine lettin' him lure yeh off on yer own – "

"Krum's all right!" said Potter, as they climbed the steps into the Entrance Hall. "He wasn't trying to jinx me, he just wanted to talk about Hermione – "

"I'll be havin' a few words with her, an' all," said Hagrid grimly, stomping up the stairs. "The less you lot 'ave ter do with these foreigners, the happier yeh'll be. Yeh can't trust any of 'em."

Corvus wanted to point out his cousin was one of those 'foreigners' but he was too tired. Potter however had the energy, "You were getting on all right with Madam Maxime," he said, annoyed.

"Don you talk ter me abou' her!" said Hagrid and he looked quite frightening for a moment. "I've got her number now! Tryin' ter get back in me good books, tryin' ter get me ter tell her what's comin' in the third task. Ha! You can't trust any of 'em!"

Hagrid remained in his exceptionally foul mood and Potter was happy to say goodbye to him in front of the Gryffindor Tower's portal, the portrait of the Fat Lady. Corvus watched him clamber through the portrait hole and he knew he was going to tell Granger and Weasley everything immediately. Corvus had no one to share this crazy night with. He wondered how his mother will react to the news.

"It was bloody good luck yeh were there ter help Harry," said Hagrid, still angry but he was cooling down. "An' Moody's told me yeh've been helpin' Harry with trainin' for his tasks. Glad ter see yeh don't let what House yeh belong ter affect yeh, Corvus. Yeh done good protectin' him tonight."

"Er – yeah."

"That's why Dumbledore made you Prefect.

* * *

...

...

Okay so this was a longer chapter to make up for last chapter! And a quick update! I'm pretty sure I can wrap up all GoF chapters in the next three-four? Let's hope! Anyway next chapter will include; Corvus seeing Jeremy in the Hospital Wing... Dumbledore and Corvus talking about what happened... Corvus opens up about all the crazy stuff that's been happening... Salesmen come to a compromise... OWLs!... Third Task

A lot is going to happen, huh? Muahahaha! You'll have to wait, but I'm not going to make you wait forever... at least I'm not planning to... lets hope for the best!

R&R


	28. Crash Course

**Crash Course**

He was in the hospital wing . Turning his head he saw a row of neatly made beds on either side of him. Pale light poured in from the numerous windows.

_This it the second time I've ended up here because of Potter_, he realized. It wasn't often he was sent to the hospital wing. He sat up and looked to the nurse's office and saw that the lights were still off.

He could hear a faint snoring. Turning about, he noticed a bed at the far end of the wing, covered by a drawn curtain. Corvus frowned, could that be Mr. Crouch?

He threw off his blanket and got to his feet. Treading quietly and quickly, he passed Madam Pomfrey's office door. Putrid stench grew in the air as he neared the hidden patient. He covered his mouth and nose with his sleeve, with his other hand he reached out to pull back the curtain.

It wasn't Mr. Crouch. For a moment Corvus didn't know _what_ he was looking at. It was a body wrapped in bandages like a mummy. The only part of the person underneath showing were his eyelids. They were closed, they looked red and extremely wrinkly.

Corvus gagged, the smell was beginning to make his eyes water. The sound disturbed the mummified body, his eyes opened. The person's redden eyes were bleary for a moment then he recognized Corvus, they started to bulge and angry gurgling noises came from his covered mouth.

"Petzold?" coughed Corvus. There'd been a rumor that Jeremy had been moved to St. Mungo's.

Jeremy started to shift violently in his bed, as if he wanted desperately to attack Corvus. The Salesman smirked.

"Mr. Petzold needs his rest if he's to make a full recovery," a voice called. Corvus quickly closed the curtain again, stepped back and turned on his heel, almost all in one moment. Dumbledore was standing in the aisle between the rows of beds as if he'd been there the entire time. "He's well on his way, thanks to the efforts of Madam Pomfrey."

"What a relief," he replied without blinking. He ignored Jeremy's angry trashing behind the curtain, he hoped the headmaster couldn't hear it. He walked over to Dumbledore. "Did Mad-Eye catch Crouch?"

"Unfortunately _Professor_ Moody was unable to," he replied. He peered beyond Corvus at Jeremy's sectioned off bed. "Perhaps we should speak about this outside. I suspect the rest of the student body is still sleeping."

Corvus followed him outside and once the door closed behind them, he started talking, "He said You-Know-Who was getting stronger."

"Indeed, Harry informed me of that. According to his account, Mr. Crouch also mentioned Ascanius Stirling."

"He's dead though."

"That's what people believe about He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."

"Apparently not everyone believes that," he scowled. "From what I understand there's actually a considerable amount of people who know better."

Dumbledore's lips pulled into a faint, amused smile beneath his snow-white beard. "I need you to tell me your side of the story. You and Viktor Krum were the last to see Mr. Crouch."

"I _was_ the last one to see him," he corrected. "When Potter left I – I acted as if I were you, sir, so he'd tell me whatever it was he knew. Nearly got it out of him too, he wanted to tell me, I could tell. But it was like he physically couldn't – like something was stopping him. His eyes would get all wonky. Anyway it couldn't've been him who stunned us. I was staring straight at him when it happened."

"No, I did not suspect he was the one who stunned you two," Dumbledore said calmly. After a lengthy pause the Headmaster asked, "How did you come to follow Harry and Viktor?"

Corvus was taken aback at the sudden question. It was like the headmaster was turning the tables on him. He proceeded warily, "Coincidence. I was on a walk. I saw them go off together. Reckon it was a bit suspicious, since their competitors and all."

His eyes focused on Corvus, "Whereabouts did you see them?"

"Don't really remember – sort of around the Quidditch pitch."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled, "That's generally a nice play to take a walk."

"Yeah, it's my favorite place to walk," he muttered. He cleared his throat, "So is the Minister of Magic going to be informed about this? Shouldn't he send a few Aurors to search the Forest for Crouch?"

"I'm currently in the process of communicating this matter to Mr. Fudge, but it's a delicate issue," he explained. "The Minister does not like hearing bad news."

"Who does?" he scoffed, but immediately straightened up again. He was after all, speaking to his headmaster. "Sorry, sir."

"You're quite right, Mr. Black," he smiled at him. "There isn't anything else I can think of asking you. You may go, I'm sure you want to write your mother about this. I'll inform Madam Pomfrey of your discharge.

"Thank you, sir," he nodded and backed away. How was he going to explain this to his mother? She'd just gotten back from some top-secret mission in Europe, this probably would only send her on another one. Of course if he didn't tell her every detail of the night, she'd murder him for withholding information.

How was he going to explain his absence last night to his friends? Well not _friends_ – it's just Max know isn't it? Daphne wouldn't have noticed him gone, she was on a date.

Corvus paused in the middle of the hallway, took out his wand and breathed in deeply. Without moving his lips or uttering a sound, he summoned a piece of parchment, ink and quill. They all came from a nearby classroom, which meant he'd stolen it in essence. But he'd stolen it using a non-verbal spell!

When he got to the Owlery, he slowed his steps. There were voices up in the rafters.

"He was out of his mind. Half the time he seemed to think his wife and son were still alive, and he kept talking to Percy about work and giving him instructions."

Corvus braced himself as he climbed the steps up to the Owlery and opened. The Gryffindor Trio jumped at his sudden arrival. They were all puffy-eyed and pale, as if they'd been up all night with Potter. "Morning," he greeted dully.

"I was just telling them about last night," said Potter.

"I figured," he muttered as he sat down on the floor. He immediately started to write his letter, it would be the most rushed and disorganized letter he's ever sent her, because he still had to take a shower and prepare for his morning classes. He should've asked Dumbledore for the day off.

"Do you reckon it was Crouch who attacked you and Krum?" Weasley asked him.

"No, I was staring right at Crouch when I was Stunned," he replied without looking up.

"And... remind me what he said about You-Know-Who?" Weasley asked Potter, tentatively.

"I've told you. He said he's getting stronger."

There was a pause. Corvus's quill even faltered for a moment on the parchment. Then Weasley said in a falsely confident voice, "But he was out of his mind, like you said, so half of it was probably just raving..."

"He was sanest when he was trying to talk about Voldemort," Corvus accidentally stabbed a hole through his parchment. "He was having real trouble stringing two words together, but the was when he seemed to know where he was, and know what he wanted to do. He just kept saying he had to see Dumbledore."

Potter turned away from the window and stared up at the rafters. Corvus rounded out his letter, assuring her he was alright. She was probably going to go mad when she read this. She might even pull him out of Hogwarts for a bit.

"If Snape hadn't held me up," Potter said bitterly, "we might've got there in time. _The headmaster is busy, Potter_... _what's this rubbish, Potter?_ Why couldn't he have just got out of the way?"

"You ran into Snape?" interrupted Corvus, getting up with his letter. He peered up at the selection of owls. Half the perches were empty.

"Yeah, he wouldn't let me see Dumbledore."

"Maybe he didn't want you to get there!" said Weasley, quickly. "Maybe – hang on – how fast d'you reckon he could've got down to the Forest? D'you reckon he could've beaten you and Dumbledore there?"

"Not unless he can turn himself into a bat or something."

"Wouldn't put it past him," Weasley muttered.

"We need to see Professor Moody," said Hermione. "We need to find out whether he found Mr. Crouch."

"He didn't," Corvus told her. "I've just spoken with Dumbledore at the hospital wing. Said Moody hadn't."

"Maybe he didn't have the Marauder's Map on him, then," said Potter.

"Unless Crouch was already outside the grounds," said Weasley, "because it only shows up to the boundaries, doesn't it?"

"Or perhaps your precious map has it's flaws," said Corvus. "Do I have to remind you that it _never_ spots me?"

"_Shh!"_ said Granger suddenly.

Somebody was climbing the steps up to the Owlery. You could hear two voices arguing, coming closer and closer.

" – that's blackmail, that is, we could get into a lot of trouble for that – "

"– we've tried being polite, it's time to play dirty, like him. He wouldn't like the Ministry of Magic knowing what he did – "

"I'm telling you, if you put that in writing, it's blackmail!"

"Yeah, and you won't be complaining if we get a nice fat payoff, will you?"

The Owlery door banged open. Fred and George Weasley came over the threshold, then froze at the sight of the Gryffindor Trio and Corvus. The Slytherin cocked an eyebrow, how intriguing...

"What're you doing here here?" Ron and Fred Weasley said at the same time.

"Sending a letter," said Potter and George Weasley in unison.

"What, at this time?" said Granger and Fred Weasley.

"With him?" said George and Fred Weasley together, pointing at the only Slytherin present.

While this pathetic charade was playing out, Corvus discreetly glanced at the sealed envelope in Fred Weasley's hand. It was addressed to Ludo Bagman. Playing it cool, Corvus turned his back on them and waved down an owl to take his letter.

"Fine – we won't ask you what you're doing, if you don't ask us," said Fred Weasley.

"Oh, but we already know quite a bit about what you're up to," grinned Corvus, turning back to face them. As he carried the owl over to the window, he noticed Fred Weasley had shifted his hand so that Ludo Bagman's name was covered. "You're dabbling in blackmail."

The smirk on Fred Weasley's face vanished.

"Imagine that's an exciting business venture."

"Don't be stupid, I was only joking," George Weasley said easily.

"Didn't sound like that," said Ron Weasley. The twins looked at each other.

Corvus had a derisive sound and said, "See you lot later."

He left the Owlery, with a vague idea about what to tell his friends now.

**X  
****X**

"I stumbled upon an interesting lead last night."

"Oh?"

"Morning!" cheered Daphne, smiling brighter than the sun. She practically pranced up to her seat beside Max and Corvus at the Slytherin table.

"You're in a good mood," remarked Max, turning to the next page of the _Daily Prophet._

She shrugged. "I guess."

Corvus eyed her, wondering if he should expose the truth about her date to Max. It would just be for a laugh, no doubt she'd get all red in the face again.

But he had more important things to discuss with the remaining Salesmen. "The Weasley twins are blackmailing a Ministry official."

"What?" Daphne's smile disappeared to be replaced with a scandalized expression. Corvus snickered.

"Who?" asked Max, his azure eyes slightly wider than usual – the only sign that he too was caught off guard. His voice remained cool.

"Ludo Bagman," he said. "I don't know why, but I have a theory. Remember that bet they placed with Bagman at the World Cup? They won that."

"And they wanted to set up a partnership with Sal's Guys," said Max, thoughtfully.

"A pricey partnership – one they couldn't afford without the winnings. Except they still never made contact with Sal's Guys."

"Because Ludo Bagman conned them out of their money?" wondered Daphne. He grinned at her, happy that she could keep up.

"Exactly."

"So what? You want us to blackmail the Weasley twins for blackmailing the Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports?" she asked, laughing. "Isn't that a bit excessive, and right before exam week?"

Max chuckled as well, "She has a point."

Corvus's smile faded, "Yeah I guess I didn't think about that."

"Is that what you were up to last night?" asked Max. He folded up the newspaper.

"Sort of," he answered easily. He slipped his hand in his pocket for his watch, to check how much time left they had until their first class – Defense Against the Dark Arts. "I also got a sneak peak at our darling Pretzel."

"Really? How's he looking?"

"He was wrapped up tight like a mummy. So I guess, he's never looked better. Or it's never been better looking at him."

Max and Daphne snickered. For the rest of breakfast, Corvus's mind eased off of thinking about Mr. Crouch, You-Know-Who and Ascanius Stirling, because beside all that he was in a good mood and it was a good morning.

He continued toying with the idea of asking Daphne about her date. Every once and a while, probably when she thought none of them were looking at her, she would smile to herself.

**X  
****X**

"Morning," growled Moody as they entered their Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. He looked exhausted from last night. The eyelid of his normal eye was drooping, giving his face an even more lop-sided appearance than usual. "You lads can take out your books."

"Huh?"

"All revision now, for your OWLs," he said. He moved over to his desk, sat down and stretched out his wooden leg with a slight groan.

"You're not going to give us an outline or what?" asked Max, anxious.

Moody shrugged, "They'll give yeh a written test and then a practical one. What more am I to give you?"

Max looked to Corvus, as if he expected him to do something about this. He shrugged back at him and they took their seats. "Do you smell that?" Max asked as he pulled out his virtually unused textbook.

Corvus sniffed the air. He did smell _something_ but it was very faint. "Not really. What does it smell like?"

Max inhaled the air, and frowned. "Like a lot of things."

"This is a classroom, people are in here all day, of course it smells."

Max glared at him, "I mean it smells like a lot of things it shouldn't." His azure eyes became distant and thoughtful, "It's boomslang skin... and lacewing flies... and fluxweed."

"Maybe someone left behind some potion ingredients," replied Corvus, turning about in his seat to see. Their fellow classmates were strolling in and looking pass them, he couldn't find any forgotten bags or ingredients.

"Boomslang skin isn't just _left behind_," said Max, slightly haughtily. "That stuff's only in Snape's private store room."

"Then you tell me how its scent got here."

"I don't know."

Corvus rolled his eyes, "Your sense of smell is probably too sensitive because of... you know... pretending to be a dog on your free time."

Max remained silent, it was clear he didn't thing the situation could be so easily explained. Defense Against the Dark Arts rarely moved this slowly. Corvus kept checking his pocket watch. Time used to fly in this class, when they were throwing curses at each other and dodging critical damage.

**X  
****X**

His mother sent an owl back the very morning, and so did Sirius. The two owls fluttered down on either side of Corvus at the same moment that a tawny owl landed in front of Max, clutching a copy of the_ Daily Prophet_ in its beak. He took the newspaper.

"Anything in there about Barty Crouch?" asked Corvus.

"No," he scanned the first few pages, "Why?"

"Just curious if he's been found dead yet," he replied calmly as he opened his mother's letter first. It was interesting that the _Daily Prophet_ hadn't yet got wind of Crouch.

_Corvus, _

_Is Harry an idiot? Walking off with Viktor Krum like that, into the Forbidden Forest of all places! And YOU –  
what were you thinking staying behind in the dark with Crouch? And then trying to trick him into telling  
you what he knew! If he'd given you that information, the attacker probably would've gotten rid of you  
too. I don't doubt it, Barty Crouch is dead. Whoever's at Hogwarts playing this scheme was covering his  
tracks._

_I'm mad at your reckless behavior, Corvy, but I'm also a little relieved that you followed at Harry.  
Though Mad-Eye, Dumbledore and Sirius are keeping an eye out for Harry, having you there too is a relief.  
I think if it'd just been Harry left waiting in the dark with this attacker, he would have killed Harry instead  
of Stunned him like he did you. Harry is the ultimate target. _

_It's important that you help Harry prepare for the Third Task – this mysterious attacker will probably try  
attacking him next in the Third Task, the last chance he'll get to do him harm now. Sirius wants him to  
focus on Stunning and Disarming, coupled with some hexes. You're excellent at duels and hexes, I expect  
you can help him loads. _

_I'm heading to Hogsmeade for the Third Task, I will be staying at the Broomstick. See you then._

_Love,  
__mum_

It was nice to read that his mother thought Potter was an idiot as well. Everything else in the letter wasn't as pleasing. He didn't like being lectured like this and the fact that his mother didn't comment on what Crouch said about Ascanius. That was the more pressing matter, wasn't it?

He opened Sirius's letter next,

_Corv – Good work following Harry last night. I've told him to stay close to Ron and Hermione and  
not to leave Gryffindor Tower after hours. But I think it would be good if you keep a watch on him  
too, also he'll need all the help he can get to arm himself for the Third Task. I want you to be my  
eyes and ears when it comes to Harry right now, can you do that?  
Sirius_

Corvus groaned inwardly. Max looked up from his newspaper, frowning.

"Bad news?" asked Daphne.

"It's nothing," he grumbled.

**X  
****X**

For the next few days Corvus spent all of his free time slipping out of view from his friends and the rest of Slytherin to meet with the Gryffindor Trio in empty classrooms to practice hexes. He always brought his own books to keep revising for his OWLs, he laid down the law that the Trio were alone when it came to researching hexes in the library.

"I'm a hell of a lot more busy than you lot," he growled at them when he explained. "In case you haven't figured that out. I don't have time to spare for study-parties in the library every night."

Another term of Corvus's agreement was that Potter would _not_ practice his spells or hexes on him. He was just there to supervise and give pointers. Granger and Weasley acted as targets.

"Can't we kidnap Mrs. Norris?" Weasley suggested during Monday lunchtime, as he lay flat on his back in the middle of the Charms classroom, having just been Stunned and re-woken by Potter for the fifth time in a row. "Let's stun her for a bit. Or you could use Dobby, Harry, I bet he'd do anything to help you."

"Who's Dobby?" asked Corvus, glancing up from his Transfiguration notes.

"A freed house-elf," replied Potter.

"Current president of Harry's fan club," added Weasley. He gingerly got to his feet, rubbing his backside, "I'm aching all over..."

"Well, you keep missing the cushions, don't you!" said Granger, impatiently, rearranging the pile of cushions used for Banishing Spells. "Just try and fall backwards!"

"Once you're Stunned, you can't aim too well, Hermione! Why don't you take a turn?"

"Well, I think Harry's got it now, anyway," said Granger, hastily. "And we don't have to worry about Disarming, because he's been able to do that for ages... I think we ought to start on some of these hexes."

She looked down the list they'd made in the library.

"Corvus, what do you think we should start with? I quite like the sound of this Impediment Jinx," she said.

"Whatever."

"Should slow down anything that's trying to attack you, Harry."

Potter nodded. "Sounds handy."

"Ron, go to the other end of the classroom and charge at Harry when I say so," she started. "Corvus have you done this hex before?"

Corvus finished the sentence he was reading before sitting back, sighing, "Of course."

"Care to give us a demonstration? Take your time, obviously," said Weasley.

Corvus sneered at the ginger and stood up, picking up his wand. While the thought of jinxing Weasley was fun, he came up with a better idea to rile up the Gryffindors. He waved his wand, there was a flash of yellow light and Flitwick's cupboard turned into a roaring black panther.

"_Oppugno,"_chanted Corvus, pointing his wand at Weasley. Granger screamed a blood-curdling scream as the panther pounced at Weasley. The ginger frantically scrambled back, covering his face with his arms as the great feline flew in the air at him.

"_Impedimenta!_"

The panther growled ferociously, stopping midair and fell back. Like any cat, it managed to land on her feet and then she turned angrily at Corvus, who calmly gave another wave of his wand, turning it back into a cupboard. Non-verbally, he made the cupboard levitate and float back to its proper place against the wall.

"Are you insane?" yelled Weasley, panting.

"Did you catch that, Potter? Or should I break it down some more for you?" he leered as the bell rang.

* * *

...

...

So there was a delay... sorry... I really wanted to finish everything up that leads up to the Third Task, but it was impossible. Next chapter WILL include the Third Task, Corvus's OWLs, a semi-fight with Louis and Anwar, and... a surprise...

pls R&R, though technically I've been a huge butthead with taking forever to update...


	29. Witness

**Witness**

"That was very advanced magic," said Granger, trotting along side Corvus after they'd slipped out of the classroom. He nervously glanced around them, in case people from the Great Hall were already approaching this hallway. "That kind of Transfiguration is NEWT level, isn't it? Or have they changed the curriculum for OWLs? Oh I hope so – opens up the subject so much."

"Granger?"

"Yeah?"

"_Go away_." He quickened his pace. He was heading for the Astronomy Tower for his next class. Without looking back at her, he took a sharp right turn, colliding into a couple snogging.

It was Louis and Milvina Fox.

"You two?_"_ gasped Corvus. He only saw a flash of Milvina's pretty face before she turned away, using her long raven hair to hide her embarrassment. He felt a strong sense of dejavu, he'd stumbled upon a similar scene when Louis and Milvina first started dating. "But – but what about Rebecca?"

"_Shh!"_ his former friend hissed viciously and peered over Corvus's shoulder. His brow frowned when he spotted Granger and the other two Gryffindors in the hallway. He eyed Corvus, "What's this about?"

"Nothing, they're just there, aren't they?"

"Interviewing replacement pawns?"

"Nah, losing the extra weight's been quite a comfortable experience."

Louis's piercing blue eyes flashed dangerously. Corvus wasn't sure, but he thought he saw his former friend move his hand to his pocket out of the corner of his eye. Just to make sure, he tightened his grip on his wand.

The tension was shattered when Milvina choked back random sobs. "I can't!" she choked before dashing off. Louis watched her, clearly stuck between chasing after her and continuing this stand-off. As Corvus began to ease, the Veela suddenly snapped his attention back at him and had his wand out in a blink of an eye.

"No point in telling anyone we saw each other, right?"

"You wouldn't," he said, tersely. He tried not to break Louis's intense gaze, but he was cautious of where the other boy's wand was.

"Might."

"We're going to be late for class."

Louis snickered and stepped back. "True... probably should hop to the toilets first though, Blackstone."

He nodded to the front of Corvus's robes, it was wet like he'd pissed himself. Corvus's jaw dropped in horror.

"Looks to be too late, oh dear," he laughed as he walked away. Corvus could hear other students coming down the hall. Louis had used some kind of spell, non-verbally, and Corvus hadn't detected a think. He ogled at the former-Salesman, he really _was _good at Charms.

**X  
****X**

Since running into Louis and Milvina Fox snogging, Corvus imaged there was tense in the air when he saw Louis with Rebecca in the Great Hall. Milvina Fox would purposefully avoid eye contact with Louis and Corvus. Louis, however, never shied away from Corvus watching him, in fact he stared right back as if challenging him.

Of course Corvus hadn't told anyone. It wasn't his business. Perhaps there was even a little part of him that wanted to keep Louis's secret safe so the former-Salesman might warm up to him again. He had more potential than he knew, that water spell he used on his robes hadn't been a normal spell. It was a water curse of some kind, the wet-spot only grew larger when Corvus tried to dry it out magically and non-magically. He ended up throwing out the robes.

"Heard the latest Potter news?" asked Malfoy, taking a seat beside Corvus. Crabbe and Goyle plodded down on his other side.

"Is that all you speak about at this school? Harry Potter?" wondered Breises. She was looking bored, holding Max's right hand while he flipped through his Herbology notes using his other hand. That left him with no hands to eat with, but he's bewitched his fork and knife to serve him every forty seconds. He was like a robot.

Malfoy's lip curled unpleasantly. Neither Breises or Malfoy had warmed up to each other yet, "Of course not. But every once and a while Potter does something like faint in the middle of class and have a freak nightmare."

Corvus cocked an eyebrow, "What?"

"He fainted in his Divination class," he explained, purposefully looking away from Breises who now showed mild interest. Max still hadn't looked up from his multiple tasks, Corvus wasn't even sure his friend was aware of Malfoy's presence.

"He was crying," said Crabbe, uncharacteristically speaking. Corvus stared at him, slightly bewildered. Last time he heard him speak was three years ago.

"And rolling around on the floor," added Malfoy.

"That's weird," said Breises.

"Yeah," Corvus agreed. He turned around in his seat to look at the Gryffindor table. Granger and Weasley were there, but there was no sign of Potter. This wasn't the first note-worthy dream Potter's had...

**X  
****X**

Over the next few days, Corvus wasn't approached by Granger, Weasley or Potter. Ironically this wasn't a relief, it actually concerned him. He assumed they were still meeting up for practice sessions, but he didn't know what classroom they'd be hiding in so there was no way of him catching them.

The mood in the castle as they entered June became a mix of excitement, tension and dread. Dread for those sitting their OWL or NEWT exams. The excitement was about the third task and Corvus guessed the tension came from that too, as well as the aforementioned exams.

"I can't believe Max would rather study in the library, on a day like this," said Daphne. The pair of them walked outside onto the grounds. It was truly a beautiful day. Plenty of people were outside, either studying or passing the time.

"Reckons it's too distracting." Just as Corvus said it, he spotted Veronique and a small group of Beauxbatons students. Cautiously he beelined it back, Daphne laughed and followed him.

"Are you two officially over then?"

"I guess. We haven't talked to each other in weeks."

"It's rather surprising, how useless you are when it comes to dealing with girls," she said, looking over her shoulder back at Veronique, who hadn't noticed her ex-boyfriend. Corvus declined to comment.

They sat down on the grass. Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle were standing in the shadow of a tree nearby. Crabbe and Goyle seemed to be keeping a look out, both were smirking. When they noticed Corvus looking at them, they gave him a nod.

"Do you want me to quiz you?" she asked him, stretching out her legs in front of her. Her hair was up in a ponytail, revealing her face to the sunlight. She hadn't unpacked her bag of books and notes.

"Haven't you got rubbish study too?"

"Not really feeling it," she grinned. "But I can quiz you – that way I can pretend I'm revising."

"Alright," he gave up and pulled out his Potions' notes. As he handed them to her, she eagerly searched through them for a hard question. He watched her, then abruptly asked, "So how did that date go?"

She looked up, smiling brightly, "It was nice."

He returned a half-felt smile. For some reason, he wasn't that happy for her. "But you haven't gone on one since, right?"

"We have, nothing special obviously," she explained. "It's kind of a secret right now... mostly because Pansy and Tracey will go mad once they hear."

"Is it someone embarrassing then?"

"No!" she laughed. His fake smile was becoming more difficult to maintain. She drew up her knees and wiggled her feet, still smiling, "It's strange, because I think you're the only one who knows that it's been going on..."

"That is strange," he mumbled.

"You know him, it's – " she stopped mid-sentence, her eyes widening slightly as something behind Corvus.

"Hey Black, quick question," Malfoy said. Corvus twisted himself to look at Malfoy standing over him, smirking like an idiot. Or like someone who was up to no good.

"What is it?"

"What do you think about Potter?"

Corvus frowned, "Why do you ask?"

He shrugged, "Wondering, did you hear that he's telling people he fainted in class because he had a nightmare about the Dark Lord?"

"No, I hadn't," he said suspiciously. "How'd you hear that?"

"Goyle told me," he sneered then quickly continued, "Potter sounds deranged, doesn't he?"

"He's probably not the first to have a nightmare about You-Know-Who," remarked Daphne, her smile and giddiness gone.

"Exactly," said Corvus.

"You don't think he's dangerous? He can speak Parseltongue, that stuff's always linked to Dark Magic."

"Dark Magic? Potter? Please," he scoffed. "If Potter really was dangerous, he'd use the Dark Arts to help him win the Triward Tournament. Instead of haplessly stumbling through each task."

Malfoy's eyes glinted mischievously, "You reckon?"

"Yeah."

"Well, I'll let you carry on," he said. "Got stuff to do too, right boys?"

Crabbe and Goyle snickered moronically.

"Sometimes they can be so weird," commented Daphne as they walked away.

**X  
****X**

Usually this time of the year was Corvus's favorite, it was when the Salesmen flourished. Fifth and seventh years ordered aids in concentration, mental agility and wakefulness. Corvus even considered dipping into his pocket-money for an ounce of powdered dragon claw. Dragon claw was meant to give your brain a boost, but it was also extremely expensive. It would've cost him three hundred Galleons.

They received their examination timetables and details of the procedure for OWLs during their Potions lesson.

"Your OWLs are spread over two successive weeks," Snape told the class as they copied down the dates and times of their exams from the blackboard. He paced along the aisles, enjoying the anxiety. "You will sit the theory papers in the mornings, practice in the afternoons. Your practical Astronomy examination will, of course, take place at night. Before the any of you get funny ideas in your heads, know that the most stringent anti-cheating charms have been applied to your examination papers. Auto-Answer Quills are banned from the examination hall, as are Remembralls, Detachable Cribbling Cuffs and Self-Correcting Ink.

"Black, have I missed any contrabands? I'm not as up to date with criminal tactics as you," he said suddenly, sneering at him.

Corvus viciously crossed one of his 't's before answering, "That's all I can think of, sir!"

Their first examination, Theory of Charms, was scheduled for Monday morning. Max spent the night reciting the definition of a Substantive Charm before checking it himself against _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 5._ Corvus practiced basic Locomotion Charms, making his quills and shoes race each other around in ecliptic circles round his head.

Dinner was a very subdued affair that night, Corvus turned into a bit of a Max, with his notebook on one side of his plate and his textbook on the other. So he'd have his hands free to practice spells, he bewitched his knife and fork to feed him as well.

"They're here," Max said suddenly, ignoring the fork of mashed potatoes hitting his chin impatiently. He was staring into the Entrance Hall.

Corvus's utensils fell, his concentration disrupted. He turned back to look too. Through the doors of the Great Hall they could see Dumbledore standing with a small group of ancient-looking witches and wizards. "Perhaps one of them will die peacefully in their sleep," he said.

Alas, none of them did and their exams went as scheduled. Once they'd had breakfast, the fifth and seventh years milled around in the Entrance Hall while the other students went off to lessons. At half past nine, they were called forward class by class to re-enter the Great Hall. The four house tables had been removed and replaced instead with many tables for one, all facing the staff-table at the end of the Hall where Professor McGonagall stood facing them. When they were all seated and quiet, she said, "You may begin," and turned over an enormous hour-glass on the desk beside her.

Corvus took the first second of the exam to take a deep breath. Two rows to his right and a seat ahead of him Max was already scribbling. Three rows to his left and four seats ahead, Anwar was staring at his exam paper as if it he was reading the _Daily Prophet. _Louis was sitting somewhere behind him. He turned over his paper, with a grim expression until he read the first question;

_a.) Give the incantation and b) describe the wand movement required to make objects fly._

"Easy," he whispered to himself.

**X  
****X**

"That was easier than I thought," said Max as they emerged into the Entrance Hall. They'd just sat their Potions practical. It had been the most difficult one for Corvus, but he was positive he'd scrapped an 'Outstanding.'

"Given how much hype these tests are given, I find myself rather disappointed," he said casually. Their last exam was History of Magic, which he wasn't even going to bother studying a minute more of. They strolled towards the lawn towards the lake.

"Max!" Cho Chang and her group of girls came running after them. She was holding the exam paper from that morning. "Congrats to both of you, we're done!"

"Now we just have to wait til July for our results," sighed Jocelyn Grey.

"At least you don't have to ever sit for a Potions exam again, Joss," said Marietta, nudging her friend.

"How do you think you did?" Cho asked Max. He gave a modest shrug. "What am I talking about, you probably took a nap during that test."

He half smirked, "There were moments in the practical where I wasn't sure."

She grinned at him, knowingly. Then she opened the exam booklet, "I'm about eighty-five to ninety percent sure I got this correct, but what did you write for this question?"

"I saw Professor Marchbanks talking to you after our Transfiguration practical," said Marietta, speaking to Corvus. "She was going on about your performance, seemed like she might have fancied a little?"

Corvus smiled sheepishly and scratched the back of his neck, "Oh I don't think she was as impressed with me as she was about me being my mum's son. Apparently she saw my mum through her OWLs."

"Oh," Marietta's smile faded, "I didn't mean anything by it."

"I know," he assured her. It was surprising how awkward he still felt around her. "Excited for the third task?"

"Yes, of course! Cedric's been working so hard to prepare, hasn't he Cho?" she asked brightly, interrupting Max and Cho's conversation. There was definite change in both their moods, their smiles faltered and they went silent for a moment.

Finally Cho managed to pick up her smile again, "Yeah. It's going to be exciting."

**X  
****X**

Breakfast was a very noisy affair at the Gryffindor table on the morning of the third task. Breises sat with the Durmstrang students at the far end of the Slytherin table, intently whispering with her classmates and Viktor Krum. The post owls appeared, bringing Corvus a letter from his mother telling him to meet her before the third task.

A barn owl arrived for Max, carrying his usual morning copy of the _Daily Prophet_. He unfolded the paper, glanced at the front page. "Rita Skeeter isn't a fan of Potter's anymore," he informed them, half-smirking. He turned over the paper for Corvus and Daphne to read.

_HARRY POTTER_

_'DISTURBED AND DANGEROUS'_

"Beautiful timing, isn't it?" laughed Daphne. Corvus didn't find this amusing in the least. He snatched the paper out of Max's hands.

"Hey, Potter! _Potter!_ How's your head? You feeling all right? Sure you're not going to go berserk on us?" Malfoy was holding up a copy of the paper. Slytherins up and down the table were snickering, twisting in their seats to see Potter's reaction.

Corvus quickly read the article, Rita Skeeter described Potter's alleged fainting in Divination. First she suggested this meant Potter was mentally unhinged. But then she really got to the good stuff, accusing Potter of being a danger '_that Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, has carefully concealed from the wizarding public.' _

_'"Potter can speak Parseltongue," reveals Draco Malfoy, a Hogwarts fourth-year... "...He's made  
friends with werewolves and giants too." … A member of the Dark Force Defence League, who  
wished to remain unnamed, state that he would regard any wizard who could speak Parseltongue  
'as worthy of investigation..." _

Corvus rolled his eyes, of course Malfoy would jump to the opportunity to add to slander against Potter. He had half a mind to stop reading before the end, until he saw his own name.

'_Albus Dumbledore should surely consider whether a boy such as this should be allowed to compete  
in the Triwizard Tournament. "He'd use the Dark Arts to help him win the Triward Tournament," says  
Corvus Black, expressing the fear of many at the event. A Hogwarts Prefect, Black is the only child of  
Madam Crafter Leandra Black, this nation's beloved public heroine and survivor of the Stirling Massacres.  
The Tournament's third task takes place this evening. _

"I never said that!" he exclaimed.

"Yes you did," Daphne said lightly, folding up the paper. "That day we were studying outside, you said it to Malfoy."

"Completely out of context – _and_ I didn't tell Rita bloody Skeeter it," he said through his teeth. He glared down the table at Malfoy. Crabbe, Goyle and him were laughing at Potter, tapping their heads with their fingers, pulling grotesquely made faces and waggling their tongues like snakes.

"Why are you so upset?"

"It's the principle of the matter," he sighed exasperatedly. Honestly though, it was because he knew his mother was going to _kill him_ for it. He stood up. With a flick of his wand, the paper in front of Malfoy flew up and smacked him in the face.

The Slytherin table went silent. Malfoy wrestled the paper off of him, his face was red and his blonde hair slightly disheveled. "What was that for?" he demanded, with outrage.

"I don't like being quoted without my permission," he replied with just as much anger.

"What's the big deal?" sneered Pansy Parkinson. "It's just Potter."

Automatically he came up with a reason, "I don't want my name next to his in any way. When I'm in the papers, I don't want it to be on the back of Harry Potter's fame."

Malfoy's eyes narrowed maliciously at Corvus, the first time he's ever dared show him such hostility. Louis heckled, breaking the tension, "Got ourselves our own prima-dona, haven't we?"

"Potter better watch out, we can't fit both their heads in Hogwarts," said Anwar.

"Yeah, we should cast a vote on which git stays."

That group of Slytherins snickered. Corvus tightened his grip on his wand and rolled his other hand in a fist. Daphne pulled on his sleeve.

"Leave it," she hissed. Neither of his former friends seemed perturbed by his anger. In fact, they seem to find it amusing. He cursed under his breath and grabbed his school bag, marching out of the Great Hall.

**X  
****X**

What should've been one of the easiest exams, History of Magic, turned out to be the most torturous. Corvus couldn't stop thinking about how Louis and Anwar turned him into a joke, how Rita Skeeter had quoted him without his permission and on top of it all, he couldn't stop thinking about Potter's bloody dream.

The Dark Lord was getting stronger and something with Ascanius Stirling was still happening. Mr. Crouch might have disappeared, but it was only to make way for something worse. Writing an exam right now was hopeless.

_Just one more day, right? Potter just needs to finish this third task and it'll be over. Everything. _

When time was up, he knew he'd be lucky if he got an 'Acceptable.'

**X  
****X**

"We can even the score with them," said Max. They'd left the castle before that evening's feast to walk outside and to enjoy a tentette. After dinner the students would be led to the Quidditch pitch for the third task. Corvus would have to meet up with the other Prefects, they were supposed to oversee organizing the other students.

"How can they still be angry at us?" sighed Corvus. "It makes no sense. How sensitive are they?"

"Doesn't matter now, they're out for good."

"It's not like they'd been crawling back to us," he said, rather dejectedly. "Remember your brilliant idea of bleeding them white?"

He shrugged, "They're loss."

Corvus wasn't entirely convinced. He still felt he'd lost a lot too in this whole mess. Staring off at the Forbidden Forest, he slowly exhaled a lung full of tentette smoke. "How about an impromptu excursion?"

Max gave his half-smirk and put out his tentette. They were just going to walk off when a voice called from the steps of the Entrance Hall, "Black!"

Moody was standing in the doorway, looking grim.

"We have to talk, lad," he told him, beckoning him in. Corvus and Max exchanged looks as Moody hobbled back inside. Wondering what could possibly be wrong now, he jogged after Moody. There were groups of excited, chatting students in the Entrance Hall. Moody made most of them scatter out of their way with a single growl.

"Is everything alright, professor?" Corvus asked as they got to the second floor, the noise from the Great Hall and Entrance Hall far below them.

"Yeh'll find out in private, Black, won't risk any eavesdroppers."

"Of course," he muttered and followed him into his office.

"Take a seat."

Was _he_ in trouble? It felt like it. He took a seat in front of Moody's desk and watched as Moody went to his cupboard. He opened it, grabbing out two glasses and a half-finished bottle of Firewhiskey.

"Congratulations are in order," grinned Moody, twisting his face in the most gruesome sort of way. Corvus chuckled, wary.

"Really, sir? For what?"

Moody set the glasses down and used his teeth to open the bottle. "I know this hasn't been the best year for yeh," he said as he poured. "A lot of challenges were thrown your way, but you kept your head on tight and your wits sharp."

"Isn't that expected from every student?" he smirked, taking the glass. Moody sat himself down and grabbed his own glass.

"You're not good at humble, so just drink to your success," he told him, raising his glass.

"I'm surprised, is all," he said, toasting as well. He took a good gulp of the Firewhiskey. Not a stranger to the drink, he was impressed by its flavor. It was a good brew. "Teachers don't usually drink with students."

Moody hadn't drank, though he kept holding his glass. "With the third task coming up, I reckoned we both needed to relax. Recharge."

"Couldn't agree more."

"How do yeh think Potter's going to fare?"

"I couldn't really say, they've stopped inviting me to their training hours a few weeks ago," he admitted. "Tried finding them, but they were using empty classrooms wherever they could find them."

"Couldn't go right up to them and ask during lunch or dinner?"

Corvus's smirk faded, "Ah... well..."

"Yeh didn't want to be seen speaking with them," he finished, amused. "Yeh were only helping him because of your mother, weren't yeh?"

"Basically," he said. This was a surreal experience, sitting here, drinking with _Mad-Eye Moody_. Talking about not liking Potter... it was like he was living someone's dream. What he was doing was probably way cooler than what Louis or Anwar were doing.

Corvus felt his eyelids grow heavy. He yawned, "Excuse me."

"That's alright, lad... You're very close to your mother, aren't you Corvus?"

"Yeah, I mean, it's always just been me and my mum so... yeah we're close," he answered, suddenly drowsy. He drank some more. Moody was just staring at him, his glass still full.

"It's funny, because I think you have more in common with your father."

"My father?" he blinked rapidly. His eyes were half closed now and his mouth tasted like cotton.

Moody chuckled, "Drink going to your head?"

"You knew my father, sir?" he slurred.

"Yes," he said. "I knew him, but only from a far. It was out of character for him to be whisked away with your mother. He was a quiet, thoughtful boy..."

Moody's voice drowned out and suddenly Corvus jolted, he'd dosed off without realizing it and his professor was still speaking.

"... so much potential. His entire life he was on the right track but then your mother selfishly devoured his future..."

Corvus struggled to see Moody, his figure kept coming in and out of focus. This was strange. This wasn't normal to feel after Firewhiskey. "Sir... I think I'm sick..."

"He's been waiting so long to finally meet you, Corvus Black."

"Huh?" Corvus tried to stand up, but he stumbled over, hitting the floor. The world was spinning and the edges of his vision was blurry. A fuzzy silhouette stood over him and he heard Moody. He felt himself be drawn under.

"When you wake up, you'll know I've saved you."

**X  
****X**

Max held Breises's had as they walked onto the Quidditch pitch, which was completely unrecognizable. A twenty-foot-heigh hedge ran all the way around the edge of it. There was a gap right in front of them, the entrance to the vast maze. The passage beyond it looked dark and creepy.

The air was full of excited voices and the rumbling of feet as the hundreds of students filed into their seats in the stands. The sky was a deep, clear blue now, and the first stars were starting to appear.

"Max! Breises!"

Corvus's mother came into view, walking against the crowds of students. A large black dog padded along beside her, its tail wagging. Max had a fleeting memory of when Corvus explained how Sirius Black had escaped Azkaban.

"Miss Leandra," breathed Breises, her hand slipping out of Max's so she could cover her mouth. "I'm so surprised to find you! I expected you to be seated with the judges and other high ranking officials present."

She gave her very distant cousin a funny smile, "I'm looking for Corvus, have you seen him?"

"Professor Moody called him into his office before the feast," said Max, looking up from the dog.

"We haven't seen him since," said Breises, eager to be of use.

"Not even at dinner?" she frowned. They shook their head. "I suppose he should be with Mad-Eye then," she said thoughtfully. She absentmindedly stroked the dog's head. The dog's grey eyes were trained on Max.

"If we see him or what, I'll tell him you're looking for him, Ms. Black," he promised and took Breises's hand. Corvus's mother smiled.

"Why don't you two sit with me by the judges' table? Corvus would like to have some of his friends to watch the third task with," she said. "Best seats in the house."

"We'd love to!" exclaimed Breises. She pulled Max along with her as Ms. Black led the way. "I didn't know you had a pet, Miss Leandra."

"Please, both of you, call me Leandra," she told them as they climbed the steps to the judges' platform. "And I just got him, his name's Snuffles."

"An adorable name. I love dogs."

"There's Moody," Ms. Black said, distracted. Moody, Hagrid, Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick were walking in the stadium and approaching Bagman and the champions. They were wearing large, red, luminous stars on their hats, all except Hagrid, who had his on the back of his moleskin waistcoat.

"They're going to be patrolling the outside of the maze," explained Ms. Black, searching the seats closest to the stadium. "So where's Corvus? Do you think he is with your other friends, Louis and Anwar?"

"No," replied Max, with no further explanation. "Maybe Daphne."

She sighed, frustrated. "It's impossible to find him in this crowd."

"He probably knows where you'll be seated," he said.

She nodded, "I suppose. I wish he'd waited for me, I told him I wanted to meet up before."

"He's been very upset today," said Breises. "Because of that mean article in the _Daily Prophet_."

Ms. Black's eyes narrowed slightly, "Yes, I particularly wanted to speak to him about _that_."

She gave up peering out into the hundreds of students and walked them to their seats. Without meaning to, Max noticed that Cho and her friends were seated to their right. She was in perfect view of him, their eyes met and they waved at each other. Breises loudly cleared her throat beside him.

Bagman's magically magnified voice echoed into the stands. "Ladies and gentlemen, the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament is about to begin! Let me remind you how the points currently stand! Tied in first place, on eighty-five points each – Mr. Cedric Diggory and Mr. Harry Potter, both of Hogwarts School!"

The cheers and applause sent birds from the Forbidden Forest fluttering into the darkening sky. Max half-wondered if one of those birds was Corvus. The dog next to Ms. Black's seat barked loudly.

"In second place, on eighty points – Mr. Viktor Krum of Durmstrang Institute." More applause. "And in third place – Miss Fleur Delacour, of Beauxbatons Academy!"

Ms. Black wasn't clapping anymore, she was craning her neck to see the stands. "This is ridiculous, where is he?"

"So... on my whistle, Harry and Cedric!" said Bagman. "Three – two – one – "

He gave a short blast on his whistle, and Potter and Diggory hurried forward into the maze. Cho gave an excited shout of encouragement for Diggory. Max glanced sideways at her, noted how glowing she was and he privately wished Cedric Diggory would lose.

**X  
****X**

Harry felt his feet slam into the ground; his injured leg gave way and he fell forwards; his hand let go of the Triwizard Cup at last. He raised his head.

"Where are we?" he said.

Cedric shook his head. He got up, pulled Harry to his feet, and they looked around.

They had left the Hogwarts ground completely; they had obviously travelled miles – perhaps hundreds of miles – for even the mountains surrounding the castle were gone. They were standing instead in a dark and overgrown graveyard; the black outline of a small church was visible beyond a large yew tree to their right. A jill rose above them to their left. Harry could just make out the outline of a fine old house on the hillside.

Cedric looked down at the Triwizard Cup and then up at Harry. "Did anyone tell you the Cup was a Portkey?" he asked.

"Nope," said Harry. He was looking around the graveyard. It was completely silent, and slightly eerie. "Is this supposed to be part of the task?"

"I dunno," said Cedric. He sounded slightly nervous. "Wands out, d'you reckon?"

"Yeah," said Harry, glad that Cedric had made the suggestion rather than him.

They pulled out their wands. Harry kept looking around him. He had, yet again, the strange feeling that they were being watched.

"Someone's coming," he said suddenly.

Squinting tensely through the darkness, they watched two figures draw nearer, walking steadily towards them between the graves. Harry couldn't make out a face. One was very tall and thin while the other was short and squat. The tall one was walking as if he was holding something in his arms.

Both were wearing hooded cloaks pulled up over their heads to obscure their faces. And – several paces nearer, the space between them closing all the time – he saw that the thing in the person's arms looked like a baby... or was it merely a bundle of robes?

Harry lowered his wand slightly, and glanced sideways at Cedric. Cedric shot him a quizzical look. They both turned back to watch the approaching figures.

It stopped beside a towering marble headstone, only six feet from them. For a second, Harry and Cedric and the two figures simply looked at each other.

_Click. Click. _

Without warning, Harry's scar exploded with pain. It was agony such as he had never felt in all his life; his wand slipped from his fingers as he put his hands over his face; his knees buckled; he was on the ground and he could see nothing at all, his head was about to split open.

From far away, above his head, he heard a high, cold voice say, "Kill the spare."

* * *

...

...

...

SURPRISE! Next chapter will be centered on ASCANIUS STIRLING! Will include, obviously, Voldemort's rising, Death Eaters' reunion, that sort of stuff. I wrote passages straight out of Gof and OotP for this chapter. Sorry if the middle parts about Corvus's exams felt rushed, I basically plowed through them because they were just soooo long otherwise!

Pls R&R! Hope you're excited for Ascanius's glorious return.


	30. Death Eaters

**The Death Eaters**

"_Wir dachten, dass Sie nicht mit Ihren Bruder zu sehen, Frau Handwerk,_" the warden of Nurmengard hurried along side Leandra Black as she was escorted to her brother's prison cell.

"_Ich habe meine Meinung geandert,"_ she replied stiffly. The warden was slightly surprised to see that she did not common wearing her official uniform of black, violet and red robes. Instead she wore a dark olive green robe that was quite large for her slender frame. She carried a small black purse. Her dark copper hair was in a tight braid. "_Er ist mein Bruder."_

"_Naturlich, ich verstehe,"_ said the warden. He was a skinny man, pale with wiry black hair that had steaks of grey in it. He wore thick glasses. "_Ich habe immer geglaubt, dass alle Menschen verandern kann." _

"_Genau_." No one knew about this meeting. She demanded that the press not be notified.

The guards stopped at the end of the corridor. The corridor was in the basement of Nurmengard, it felt damp and no light from the outside world came through. Leandra Black silently glanced around, perturbed by the conditions her brother lived in no doubt.

As the guards unlocked the complicated locks on Ascanius Stirling's cell, the warden turned to the Madam Crafter. "_Sie wollten nicht Ihr Sohn mit bringen?" _

"_Nein,_" she said promptly. The guards swung open the door. His cell had a fifteen foot deep dugout in the middle where a cage was lowered into. That was where Ascanius was usually kept. But now that he was weak and dying, he was kept above it, on a cot facing a thin, small window right below the stone ceiling. He didn't stir when they entered.

Leandra took a quivering breath and her dark almond eyes started to sting with tears. She looked to the warden, pleadingly, "I want to be alone with him."

"Of course, Ms. Black," he bowed and gestured for the guards to follow him out. She waited to hear their footsteps fade as they went to the other end of the hall to wait. Then she raced to Ascanius's side, scooping up his hand. He felt cold.

"Please Ascanius... please open your eyes!"

When his eyes slowly opened, they were glazed and distant. "Leandra?" he whispered.

"It's me, Métis," she said gently, happy to see him awake. "Don't worry... I'm here..."

"Métis... I'm fading..."

"No, you're safe. You're safe," she brought his hand to her lips. "The medicines I gave you are strong, but I know how to control them. Soon you'll be free, I promise."

She released his hand and fumbled at the small purse. There was a the rattling of pill bottles, she brought out two of them. She shook out three pills from one and two from the other. There was a pitcher of water and a wooden cup by the bed. She helped him sit up and fed him the medicines.

He groaned. She gently leaned him against the wall as she rummaged through her purse again. She pulled out two vials of a potion – what Pettigrew explained as a Poly Juice Potion. One vial was filled with the potion and the essence of Leandra Black – they'd stolen a few strands of her hair at the Quidditch World Cup. The other was still at it's thick, mud-like stage, it needed one final ingredient.

Ascanius watched with fading eyes as she reached to touch his filthy hair. She gingerly swept her hand through it, admiring her champion. It had been thirteen years...

Knowing this would be her last chance, she crawled onto the cot with him. He continued watching her, his energy spent. He did nothing as she leaned in to kiss him on the corner of his lips. "I love you," she breathed against his skin.

Again she lifted her hand to his hair, but this time she carefully picked off a single strand. Ascanius closed his eyes. She added the hair into the unfinished Poly Juice Potion. It turned into a deep crimson red, it looked like blood.

She opened the vial and quickly draw it. As she felt her body changing, morphing... she pushed through the discomfort to open the silver vial. She brought it to Ascanius's lips, "Drink... drink my love..."

His parched, flushed lips parted and she poured the potion into his mouth. He used all the strength he had left to swallow it. He grunted as his weak body rapidly became to change. In a matter of minutes, the transformations were complete.

Métis quickly stripped off her olive green robes and she hungrily undressed Ascanius as well. Leandra's copper hair swung in front of his face. His hands were smaller, his palms callus like his sister's. Métis dressed him in her robes and put on his ragged, dirty prison uniform.

"There is a potion here to make you stronger," she told him hushed, looking through her purse again and putting the empty potion bottles in there too. "When you are ready to leave, I will take the pills... they will think you died, wizards don't understand Muggle medicines... they won't know to look."

She gave him the potion to make him stronger. Immediately he felt the affect. His breathing became stronger and his sight, his senses, his strength... all came back to him. He stood up, examining his disguise.

"I love you," she said again. She'd been staring at him, longingly. It was strange to his himself staring a him like that. "If only I wasn't born... born a Squib..."

"I'll be eternally grateful for your sacrifice, Métis," he replied. He held his hand out for the purse, "Now it is time."

She gave it to him, but after she pulled out a handful of white little pills. Muggle medicine would forever be a mystery to him. She poured them into her mouth and drank the rest of the water after them. Ascanius helped her ease back onto the cot, he held her hand until her heart stopped beating.

And that is how Ascanius Stirling died.

**X  
****X**

"Kill the spare."

Ascanius Stirling watched the boy die. He landed spread-eagle on the ground with his eyes staring wide and his mouth half-open, his death had been a surprise. Potter stared into the dead boy's eyes, mindless and in disbelief. A smile crept across his crooked face, he turned to Wormtail and spoke softly, "Now."

Wormtail silently went forth to grab Potter and drag him to the appropriate tombstone. He slammed the Boy Who Lived against the marble headstone and conjured tight cords around him, tying his neck to ankles to the headstone.

_Click._

"Gag him," he told Wormtail, still in his gentle voice. Wormtail drew a length of black material from the inside of his cloak and stuffed it roughly into Potter's mouth. Ascanius affectionately gazed down at the Dark Lord bundled in his arms.

His physical form was radically different from the Dark Lord Ascanius had faithfully served over thirteen years ago. Now he was a hairless thing with dark, raw, reddish black scaly skin. His arms and legs were thin and feeble. His face was flat and snake-like. But his eyes... his eyes were exactly as Ascanius remembered them. Gleaming red eyes, eyes that barely contained the massive power within him.

Carefully, he knelt at the foot of the grave and gingerly placed the Dark Lord down. He stood back up, unblinkingly staring at the Dark Lord, then returned his gaze at Wormtail. The whizzy Death Eater was waiting for his assistance. Together they walked behind the headstone and a few feet away, where a large stone cauldron filled with the potion stood.

_Click. Click._

Wormtail winced at the sound. He hated it when Ascanius cracked his jaw. He might be disgusted with his broken jaw, but Ascanius was disgusted with his lack of spine. Even now, when he should be elated, he was quivering. Ascanius could smell the cold sweat dripping off his short, flabby body.

They pushed the stone cauldron to the front of the grave. He could hear a noise, Nagini was slithering through the grass, circling the headstone where Potter was tied. Ascanius stared at the gigantic snake for a pause, then he looked beyond the graveyard to the Riddle house.

Who was guarding Corvus then?

"_Hurry!"_

The whole surface of the water was alight with sparks now. Wormtail looked to Ascanius for confirmation. The taller Death Eater silently observed the potion, sweeping his hand over the surface to feel the heat. He nodded, "It is ready, master."

"Now..." said the Dark Lord.

Wormtail pulled open the robes on the ground, revealing the Dark Lord. Potter let out a yell that was strangled in the wad of material blocking his mouth. The Dark Lord raised his thin arm and put them around Wormtail's neck. As he lifted the Dark Lord, his hood feel back, Ascanius saw the look of revulsion on Wormtail's weak, pale face in the firelight as he carried the Dark Lord to the rim of the cauldron.

_Click. Click._

Ascanius tightened his grip on his wand. If Wormtail showed just the slightest hesitation, he would kill him and step in to replace him. Ascanius Stirling wouldn't even blink if the Dark Lord wanted him to preform the sacrifice. But the Dark Lord specifically choose Wormtail. Ascanius, of course, did not question his master.

Wormtail lowered the Dark Lord into the cauldron. There was a hiss and he vanished below the surface. Ascanius stepped closer, his heart beginning to race anew. He raised his wand and closed his eyes, speaking to the night; "_Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son!"_

The surface of Tom Riddle Sr.'s grave cracked. A fine trickly of dust rose into the air at Ascanius's command and fell softly into the cauldron. The diamond surface of the potion broke and hissed, it sent sparks in all directions and turned a vivid, poisonous-looking blue.

Ascanius turned to Wormtail, his eyes alight with fervor. Wormtail began to whimper and with a shaky hand he pulled out a long, thin silver dagger from the inside of his robes. Ascanius held out his hand, expectantly, "_Flesh of the servant, willingly given, you will revive your master."_

Wormtail gave his right hand, the hand with the missing finger. Ascanius firmly clasped his hand around his wrist and pulled him to the cauldron, so his arm stretched over the potion's surface. Wormtail gripped the dagger very tightly in his left hand, and swung it upwards.

**X  
****X**

A scream pierced the night.

Corvus woke with a start. Simultaneously, his stomach turned dangerously. He rolled over just before vomiting, his eyes shut tight against the sight but the putrid smell of Firewhiskey and general sick invaded his senses. When he'd heaved up all he could he crawled on his hands and knees backwards, until he was safely away from the mess. Then he sat back, panting.

There was a massive dull pain in his head. His eyes were half-open because of it. In the pale light he examined where he was. He was in a large room, that once must've been very impressive and beautiful. Now it was neglected, all its furniture covered in white sheets except for one armchair by a fireplace. There was no fire lit, the only light came from one of the windows. The other windows were boarded up.

"What the hell..." he croaked, carefully moving his body. Nothing seemed to be broken. He checked his pockets for his belongings. He sighed with relief when he felt his wand and his father's watch. Funnily enough feeling the weight of his father's watch was more comforting than finding his wand.

If he was in danger, why did they leave him his things? He hadn't been tied up or gagged. He was just left on the floor. His memory in Moody's office was a haze. Small snippets crawled around in his head, like Moody laughing at him, talking about his father's potential...

He got to his feet and cautiously walked over to the door. It creaked open. He paused to listen for anyone else in the house. Nothing. Corvus edged out of the room onto a landing. It smelt like decay and dust. He had the overwhelming feeling that he was alone. But not safe, not at all.

He went down the stairs, waiting to hear someone else stir in the abandoned house. He came to the downstairs hall. The hall was a little lighter owing to the large mullioned windows on either side of the front door. His eyes stared out, the house was facing a graveyard. Through the darkness Corvus easily spotted a red glowing light amongst the gravestones and tombs. Illuminated by that red light was the outline of a man. The scream had come from there.

Corvus swallowed hard, with a shaky hand he reached out for the doorknob leading out. It was unlocked just like the one upstairs. He swung it open, the air felt so chilling. He bit his bottom lip. He knew something horrible was happening. He didn't know how he knew that, he just did. Maybe it was something in the air that told him. There was only one way to find out. He slipped his hand in his pocket to feel his watch. Closing his eyes he willed himself to turn into his magpie form.

He flew low to the ground, heading straight for the light. The outline of the man grew sharper and he saw that the light was coming from a cauldron. There was a second man on the floor, writhing in agony. A third person was against a large headstone. Wary, Corvus kept a perimeter around them, a good ten feet away from them. The other gravestones covered him.

The man over the cauldron was hooded and tall. Corvus caught a flash of the man on the floor between two gravestones he flew by, it was Wormtail. He was gasping and moaning on the floor, covered in blood. The hooded man wrenched a silver dagger out of Wormtail's remaining hand and walked up to the person against the headstone. _"Blood of the enemy, forcibly taken, you will resurrect your foe."_

Wanting to have a better look, Corvus landed on a gravestone and watched. Through the darkness, he saw that the person the hooded man approached was a boy. He struggled hopelessly against ropes binding him and Corvus watched as the hooded man brought the blade's point to the crook of his right arm. The hooded man took something out of his robes and held it to the boy's wound.

He returned to the cauldron, stepping over Wormtail who was slumped sideways on the ground. He poured the blood inside. The liquid within turned instantly into a blinding white. It simmered, sending its diamond sparks in all directions, so blindingly bright that all the faces around the cauldron were illuminated.

Corvus took to the air again, this time a little higher. He kawed, as he realized the boy was Harry Potter and at his feet was the dead body of Cedric Diggory. Suddenly the sparks emanating from the cauldron were extinguished. A surge of white steam billowed thickly from the cauldron.

The hooded man who'd preformed the ritual dropped to his knees, gazing at the billowing cauldron in awe. He was recognizable from somewhere, Corvus felt, but he couldn't place him. His face was pale, gaunt, with dark eyes that were blood-shot and crazed looking. His nose was broken, his jaw hung lopsided...

"Master..." breathed the hooded man as the dark outline of a man, tall and skeletally thin emerged from the smoke. Corvus ruffled his feathers, highly aware of danger again. This was wrong, very wrong...

"Robe me," said his master, in his high, cold voice, commanding him from behind the steam. The man scrambled to pick up the black robes from the ground, got to his feet and reached up to pull them over his master's head.

The 'Master' stepped out of the cauldron, staring at Potter. His face was whiter than a skull, with wide, livid scarlet eyes and a nose that was as flat as a snake's, with slits for nostrils...

The hooded man carefully stepped back and returned to kneeling before his master. He looked away from Potter and began examining his own body. His hands were like large, pale spiders. His long white fingers caressed his own chest, his arms, his face. The red eyes, whose pupils were slits, like a cat's, gleamed still more brightly through the darkness. He held up his hands and flexed his fingers, his expression rapt.

A giant snake emerged from the darkness to circle Potter, hissing. The Master slipped one of his pale hands into a deep pocket, and drew out a wand. He caressed it gently. He raised it and pointed it at Wormtail, who was lifted off the ground and thrown against the headstone where Potter was tied.

The Master turned his scarlet eyes upon Potter as Wormtail crumpled up and cried. He gave a high, cold, mirthless laugh. Wormtail's robes were shining with blood now, he had wrapped the stump of his arm in them. "My... Lord..." he choked, "my lord... you promised..."

The hooded man shouted at him, "Silence you ungrateful vermin! The Dark Lord owes you nothing!"

Corvus suppressed the urge to screech. He said the Dark Lord... it couldn't be...

"Hold out your arm."

"Oh master... thank you, master..."

He extended the bleeding stump, but the Dark Lord laughed again. "The other arm, Wormtail."

"Master, please... _please..."_

The Dark Lord bent down and pulled out Wormtail's left arm. He forced the sleeve of his robes up past his elbow, revealing the Dark Mark on his forearm. The Dark Lord examined it carefully, ignoring Wormtail's uncontrollable weeping.

"It is back," he said softly, "They will all have noticed it... and now, we shall see... now we shall know..."

He pressed his long, white forefinger to the brand on Wormtail's arm.

"Yes... yes..." shuddered the hooded man, over come by ecstasy. Wormtail on let out a fresh howl.

The Dark Lord straightened up with a look of cruel satisfaction on his face. "How many will be brave enough to return when they feel it?" he whispered, his gleaming red eyes fixed upon the stars. "And how many will be foolish enough to stay away?"

"If any are so foolish, allow me to hunt them down one by one," said the hooded man. "I will bring you their heads, my lord."

"I know you will, Ascanius."

This time Corvus did screech. He took off towards a small church to the right of Potter, pass a large yew tree. He had to fly, to let out the anxiety fluttering around in him. It was much more difficult to process emotions in his bird form.

He flew behind the church and turned back into his human form. He was covered in a cold sweat. What was he supposed to do? How did he come here? The house he'd woken up in didn't seem magical in nature, he didn't see anything magical in there. That would mean it was a Muggle's house. He looked around the corner of the church. He needed to see if there were any nearby houses he could break into. He had to get help. But the houses seemed miles away. He bit his bottom lip again. He couldn't leave Potter for that long – but what can _he _do to protect him against the Dark Lord _and_ Ascanius?

_Wait for a window of opportunity_, he told himself. He took a deep breath and turned back into a magpie. Flapping his wings to shake off his nerves, he settled himself again and took off into the air. He perched himself on the highest branch of the yew tree.

The Dark Lord had began to pace up and down before them, his eyes sweeping the graveyard all the while. After a minute or so, he looked down at Potter again, a cruel smile twisting his snake-like face. "You stand, Harry Potter, upon the remains of my late father," he hissed softly. "A muggle and a fool... very like your dear mother – and like Ascanius Stirling's. But our muggle parents had their uses, did they not? Your mother died to defend you as a child... and I killed my father, and see how useful he has proved himself, in death... Ascanius's mother was just a waste, incidentally."

Ascanius smirked as the Dark Lord laughed again. Up and down he paced, looking all around him as he walked, and the snake continued to circle in the grass.

"You see that house upon the hillside, Potter? My father lived there. My mother, a witch who lived here in the village, fell in love with him. But he abandoned her when she told him what she was... he didn't like magic, my father... He left her and returned to his Muggle parents before I was even born, Potter, and she died giving birth to me, leaving me to be raised in a Muggle orphanage... but I vowed to find him... I revenged myself upon him, that fool who gave me his name... _Tom Riddle..._"

Still, he paced, his red eyes darting from grave to grave. "Listen to me, reliving my family history..." he said quietly, "Why, I am growing quite sentimental... but look, Harry! My _true_ family returns..."

Corvus restrained himself as the air was suddenly full of the swishing of cloaks. Behind graves, behind Corvus's yew tree, in every shadowy space, wizards were Apparating. All of them were hooded and masked. And one by one they moved forwards... slowly, cautiously, as though they could hardly believe their eyes. The Dark Lord stood in silence, waiting for them. Then one of the Death Eaters fell to his knees, crawled towards Voldemort, and kissed the hem of his black robes.

"Master... master..." he murmured. The Death Eaters behind him did the same, each of them approaching the Dark Lord on his knees, and kissing his robes, before backing away and standing up, forming a silent circle, which enclosed Tom Riddle's grave, Potter, the Dark Lord and the sobbing, twitching heap that was Wormtail.

Ascanius was already in his place, and who was the only one not wearing a mask. Corvus stared at his face in the pale light. He wasn't the demure gentleman in all those Stirling portraits. There was a hardly a trace left of that man. If his crazed eyes glanced up a little higher, beyond the Dark Lord and up at the yew tree, they'd be staring straight at each other.

Corvus suddenly understood why he'd been brought here – Ascanius had sent for him. Perhaps he was trying to set up a trap for his mother. They were the last surviving members of their family, of the Stirling Massacre. Corvus cooed, worried and scared.

"Welcome, Death Eaters," said the Dark Lord quietly. There were gaps in the circle of Death Eaters, deliberate, as thought they were waiting for more people. The Dark Lord, however, did not seem to expect more. He looked around at the hooded faces, and though there was no wind, a rustling seemed to run around the circle, as though it had shivered. "Thirteen years... thirteen years since last we met. Yet you answer my call as thought it was yesterday... we are still united under the Dark Mark, then! _Or are we?"_

He put back his terrible face and sniffed, his slit-like nostrils widening.

"I smell guilt," he said. "There is a stench of guilt upon the air."

A second shiver ran around the circle, as though each member of it longed, but did not dare, to step back from him. Except for Ascanius, he remained steadfast, his face a loving mask of devotion. Corvus looked to Potter, from this angel he could only see the Gryffindor's profile.

"I see you all, whole and healthy, with your powers intact – such prompt appearances! - and I ask myself... why did this band of wizards never come to the air of their master, to whom they swore eternal loyalty?"

No one spoke. No one moved except Wormtail, who was upon the ground, still sobbing over his bleeding arm.

"And I answer myself," whispered the Dark Lord, "They must have believed me broken, they thought I was gone. They slipped back among my enemies, and they pleaded innocence, and ignorance and bewitchment... and then I ask myself, but how could they have believed I would not rise again? They, who knew the steps I took, long ago, to guard myself against mortal death? They, who had seen proofs of the immensity of my power, in the times when I was mightier than any wizard living? Perhaps they believed a still-greater power could exist, one that could vanquish even Lord Voldemort... perhaps now they pay allegiance to another... perhaps that champion of commoners, of Mudbloods and Muggles, Albus Dumbledore?"

At the mention of Dumbledore's name, Ascanius hissed venomously. Other members of the circle stirred, and some muttered and shook their head. The Dark Lord ignored them, "It is a disappointment to me... I confess myself disappointed..."

One of the men suddenly flung himself forwards, breaking the circle. Trembling from head to foot, he collapsed at Voldemort's feet.

"Master!" he shrieked, "Master forgive me! Forgive us all!"

Voldemort began to laugh. He raised his wand, "_Crucio!"_

The Death Eater on the ground writhed and shrieked. Corvus turned his head nearly all around to the houses around them. Surely the sound was carrying across the distance. Perhaps he should go now to one of them... call the Muggle police, if only to create a diversion for Corvus and Potter to escape...

The Dark Lord raised his wand. The tortured Death Eater lay flat upon the ground, gasping.

"Get up, Avery," said Voldemort softly. "Stand up. You ask for forgiveness? I do not forgive. I do not forget. Thirteen long years... I want thirteen years' repayment before I forgive you. Wormtail here has paid some of his debt already, have you not, Wormtail?"

He looked down at Wormtail, who continued to sob.

"You returned to me, not out of loyalty, but out of fear of your old friends. You deserve this pain, Wormtail. You know that, don't you?"

"Yes, master," moaned Wormtail. "Please, master... please..."

"Yet you helped return me to my body. You helped break Ascanius free from Nurmengard. You hoped he would give the sacrifice of flesh tonight in your stead," said Voldemort coolly, watching Wormtail sob on the ground. "Worthless and traitorous as you are, you helped me... and Lord Voldemort rewards his helpers..."

Voldemort raised his wand again and whirled it through the air. A steak of what looked like molten silver hung shining in the wand's wake. Momentarialy shapeless, it writhed and then formed itself into a gleaming replica of a human hand, bright as moonlight, which soared downwards and fixed itself upon Wormtail's bleeding wrist.

Wormtail's sobs stopped abruptly. His breathing harsh and ragged, he raised his head and stared in disbelief at the silver hand, now attached seamlessly to his arm, as though he were wearing a dazzling glove. He flexed the shining fingers, then, trembling, picked up a small twig on the ground, and crushed it into powder.

"My Lord," he whispered. "Master... it is beautiful... thank you... _thank you..."_

He scrambled forward on his knees and kissed the hem of Voldemort's robes.

"May your loyalty never waver again, Wormtail," said the Dark Lord.

"No, my Lord... never, my Lord..."

Wormtail stood up and took his place in the circle, his back now to Corvus. He could see him marveling at his powerful new hand though. The Dark Lord now approached the man on Wormtail's right.

"Lucius, my slippery friend," he whispered, halting before him. "I am told that you have not renounced the old ways, though to the world you present a respectable face. You are still ready to take the lead in a spot of Muggle torture, I believe? Yet you never tried to find me, Lucius... your exploits at the Quidditch World Cup were fun, I daresay... but might not your energies have been better directed towards finding and aiding your master?"

Corvus clicked his beak. It _had_ been Lucius Malfoy behind the attack at the World Cup. He'd rejected the idea that his godfather had been responsible.

"My Lord, I was constantly on the alert," came Corvus's godfather's voice swiftly from beneath the hood. "Had there been any sign from you, any whisper of your whereabouts, I would have been at your side immediately, nothing could have prevented me – "

"And yet you ran from my Mark, when a faithful Death Eater sent it into the sky last summer?" said the Dark Lord, lazily. Lucius stopped talking abruptly. "Yes, I know all about that Lucius... you have disappointed me... I expect more faithful service in the future."

"Of course, my Lord, of course... you are merciful, thank you..."

Voldemort moved on, and stopped staring at the large space – large enough for two people – which separated Lucius and the next man.

"The Lestranges should stand here," said Voldemort quietly. "But they are entombed in Azkaban. They were faithful. They went to Azkaban rather than renounce me... when Azkaban is broken open, the Lestranges will be honored beyond their dreams. The Dementors will join us... they are our natural allies... we will recall the banished giants... I shall have all my devoted servants returned to me, and an army of creatures whom all hear..."

He walked on. Some of the Death Eaters he passed in silence, but he paused before others and spoke to them.

"Macnair... destorying dangerous beasts for the Ministry of Magic now, Wormtail tells me? You shall have better victims than that soon, Macnair. Lord Voldemort will provide..."

"Thank you, Master... thank you..."

"And here," Voldemort moved on to the two largest hooded figures, "We have Crabbe... you will do better this time, will you not, Crabbe? And you, Goyle?"

They bowed clumsily, muttering dully. Corvus couldn't believe the resemblance between the fathers and sons.

"Yes, master..."

"We will, master..."

"The same goes for you, Nott," said Voldemort quietly, as he walked past a stooped figure in Goyle's shadow.

"My Lord, I prostrate myself before you, I am your most faithful – "

"That will do," said the Dark Lord.

Corvus adjusted his wings as the Dark Lord approached Ascanius.

"And here is the _late_ Ascanius Stirling," he said, amused. Ascanius smiled, a muscle popping in his jaw.

_Click._

"Always faithful, you were one of the few to search for me – it led to your capture, unfortunately. But you knew your master was still alive. For thirteen years, you remained ever vigilant and patient. Now you may serve Lord Voldemort again."

The Dark Lord gently placed a hand on Ascanius's shoulder before continuing on, reaching the largest gap of all in the circle. Corvus grew agitated, he'd hoped to gain some insight into how his murderous uncle had escaped Nurmengard.

"We have six missing Death Eaters... three dead in my service. One, too cowardly to return... he will pay. One, who I believe has left me for ever... he will be killed, of course... and one, who remains my most faithful servant, and who has already re-entered my service."

The Death Eaters stirred. Corvus could see their eyes darting sideways at each other through their masks.

"He is at Hogwarts, that faithful servant, and it was through his efforts that our young friend arrived tonight... Yes," said Voldemort, a grin curling his lipless mouth, as the eyes of the circle flashed in Potter's direction. Corvus cooed again. "Harry Potter has kindly joined us for my rebirthing party. One might go so far as to call him my guest of honor."

* * *

...

...

Urgh this chapter was really really difficult to write! and I was so excited for it, but it involved a hell of a lot of work! Originally Corvus wasn't going to be in this chapter, I was going to have him locked up in Moody's office, but I figured it's more interesting this way... I hope you enjoyed it!

pls R&R!


	31. Emergency Procedures

_**Emergency Procedures**_

There was a silence. Then the Death Eater to the right of Wormtail stepped forward, and Lucius Malfoy's voice spoke from under the mask. "Master, we crave to know... we beg you to tell us... how you have achieved this... this miracle... how you managed to return to us..."

"Ah, what a story it is, Lucius," said Voldemort. "And it begins – and ends – with my young friend here."

Corvus walked him walk lazily over to stand next to Potter, so that the eyes of the whole vircle were upon the two of them. The snake continued to circle.

"You know, of course, that they called this boy my downfall? You all know that on the night I lost my powers and my body, I tried to kill him. His mother died in the attempt to save him – and unwittingly provided him with a protection I admit I had not foreseen... I could not touch the boy."

The Dark Lord raised one of his long, white fingers, and put it very close to Potter's check. Corvus saw Potter's face was contorted with pain. "His mother left upon him the traces of her sacrifice... this is old magic, I should have remembered it, I was foolish to overlook it... but no matter. I can touch him now."

The Dark Lord laid his finger on Potter's check and laughed softly. Corvus scratched at the branch he was perked on, so that was how Potter survived and became the Boy Who Lived... He thought of his own parents, of how his father gave up his life so him and his mother could escape the Dark Lord. He looked to Ascanius, and knew his mother would sacrifice her life for him without question too.

As the Dark Lord explained his slow journey back to mortal form, Corvus concentrated on figuring a way to escape, with Potter. There was no way he was going to leave the Gryffindor behind to die. He took off into the air again, this time circling the entire graveyard to spy at the houses in the distance. Still he wasn't comfortable leaving Potter to break into one of the houses, there was no telling how long it would take him to find help...

There he saw it, a telephone booth at the corner outside the graveyard's iron fence. He sped towards it, flying the fastest he had ever. Without landing he morphed back into his human form outside the booth, he stumbled clumsily onto the door and opened it. He picked up the telephone receiver. "Hello? Hello?"

He heard nothing. He cursed out loud and banged the thing against the telephone box.

"Calm down," he hissed at himself, dropping the receiver so he could ran both hands through his hair. His cold sweat was persisting. _Think, think... I need Muggle money! _

"I don't have any," he answered his own bright idea. But he did have something better than Muggle money. He had a wand.

He closed his eyes tightly, thinking about his Muggle Studies OWL test. There'd been a section about Muggle mechanics. Trying to use magic on Muggle technology could result in disaster. He took out his wand and aimed it at the coin dispenser. "_Alohomora!_"

Nothing happened, at first. Then the coins rattled inside and began pouring out of the slot. Corvus frantically used both hands to scoop up the coins. After about two minutes, the coins stopped spilling out.

In his OWL test there'd been a question about comparing the emergency procedures of the common Muggle to the common wizard. Corvus knew what number to dial, 999.

"999, what's your emergency?" a calm, deep voice answered.

"Someone's going to be murdered..."

**X**  
**X**

"Now untie him, Wormtail, and give back his wand."

Ascanius watched as Wormtail approached Potter, who scrambled to find his feet, to suppoert his own weight before the ropes were untied. Wormtail raised his new silver hand – Ascanius felt it was too beautiful of a gift to bestow upon a cretin like him – and pulled out the material gagging Potter and then, with one swipe, cut through the bonds tying Potter to the gravestone.

Ascanius glanced to either side of himself, nodding to his fellow Death Eaters before stepping in. His brethern closed ranks with him, forming a tighter circle around Potter and the Dark Lord so that the gaps where the missing Death Eaters should have stood were filled.

Wormtail walked out of the circle to the place where the dead boy's body lay, and returned with Potter's wand. He thrust it roughly into Potter's hand without looking at him. Then Wormtail resumed his place in the circle of watching Death Eaters.

"You have been taught how to duel, Harry Potter?" said the Dark Lord softly, his red eyes glinting through the darkness. "We bow to each other, Harry," said the Dark Lord, bending a little, but keeping his snake-like face upturned to the boy. "Come, the niceties must be observed... Dumbledore would like you to show manners... bow to Death, Harry..."

Ascanius laughed with the others. The Dark Lord's lipless mouth was smiling. But when Ascanius saw that Potter wasn't bowing, his laughter died. His eyes narrowed in disgust at the boy's disrespect.

_Click. _

"I said, _bow_," said the Dark Lord, raising his wand. Potter's back was bent ruthlessly forward and the Death Eaters laughed harder than ever. Except for Ascanius, who watched Potter with a loathsome stare.

"Very good. And now you face me, like a man... straight-backed and proud, the way your father died... And now – we duel."

The Dark Lord raised his wand, and before Potter could even flinch he cast the Cruciatus curse. Potter was reduced to laying on the floor. The Dark Lord mercifully released him, Potter rolled over and scrambled to his feet. He was shaking uncontrollably, a common side affect.

Potter staggered sideways into Ascanius. He roughly caught the boy by his collar of his filthy shirt. For a quick moment he pulled him close so he could hiss in his ear, "_Die, Potter." _

He shoved him back towards the Dark Lord.

"A little break," said the Dark Lord. "A little pause... that hurt, didn't it, Harry?" You don't want me to do that again, do you?"

Potter didn't respond. He was going to die. Ascanius clenched his jaw again just imagining it. The Boy-Who-Lived was going to die.

"I asked you whether you want me to do that again? Answer me! _Imperio!"_

Potter's face became vacant. He looked blissful for a moment, until his brow twitched and drew into a knot. Ascanius was shocked, Potter was resisting! He was just a boy! How could he resist the Dark Lord?

"I won't!" the words burst from Potter's mouth, they echoed through the graveyard. A crow screeched from high above where it was slowly circling them. Ascanius however wasn't concerned about the bird.

"You won't?" said the Dark Lord quietly. No one was laughing now. "You won't say "no"? Harry, obedience is a virtue I need to teach you before you die... perhaps another little dose of pain?"

The Dark Lord raised his wand again. Ascanius ached for him to finally kill the boy. This game was beginning to make him feel uneasy. Sure enough, Potter did something unthinkable again. He flung himself sideways onto the ground and rolled behind the marble headstone of the Dark Lord's father. The Dark Lord's curse struck the marble instead, cracking it.

"We are not playing hide-and-seek Harry." A few Death Eaters tentatively laughed. "You cannot hide from me. Does this mean you are tired of our duel? Does this mean that you would prefer me to finish it now? Come out, Harry... come out and play, then... it will quick... it might even be painless... I would not know, I've never died..."

The Dark Lord drew closer to the headstone. Before he could get around it, Potter stood up. He gripped his wand tightly in his hand, thrust it out in front of him and threw himself around the headstone, facing the Dark Lord. The crow screeched again.

"_Avada Kedavra!"_

"_Expelliarmus!"_

A jet of green light issued from the Dark Lord's wand just as a jet of red light blasted from Potter's wand. They met in mid-air. Ascanius shielded his eyes from the bright light. A narrow beam of light was now connecting the two wands, neither red nor green, but bright, deep gold.

And then, the Dark Lord and Potter were lifted into the air, their wands still connected by that thread of shimmering golden light. They were gliding away from the tombstone, and then came to rest on a patch of ground that was clear and free of graves.

"My Lord!" shouted Ascanius, the first among the Death Eaters to hurry to his master. The others followed, shouting too, asking for instructions. Some of them drew their wands, but Ascanius told them to stand down. Potter was the Dark Lord's to kill.

The golden thread connecting Potter and Voldemort splintered, though the wands remained connected, a thousand more offshoots arced high over Potter and the Dark Lord, criss-crossing all around them, until they were enclosed in a golden, dome-shaped web, a cage of light, beyond which the Death Eaters and Ascanius circled.

"_Do nothing!"_ screamed the Dark Lord. "Do nothing unless I command you!"

Ascanius wanted nothing more than to reach out and enter that cage of light. And then an unearthly and beautiful sound filled the air, it was coming from every thread of the light-spun web. It was a sound Ascanius never heard before.

The Dark Lord's wand began to emit echoing screams of pain. Then a dense, smoky hand flew out from the tip of it and vanished... the ghost of the hand he had made Wormtail... more shouts of pain... and then something much larger began to blossom, a great, greyish something that looked as though it was made of the solidest, densest smoke... it was a head... now a chest and arms... the torso of the dead boy...

Ascanius spun round to see the boy's corpse still laid on the ground, cold and lifeless.

Nevertheless the boy emerged from the Dark Lord's wand. And more of his victims did. An old Muggle, Bertha Jorkins... and finally James and Lily Potter...

"What is happening?" breathed Lucius Malfoy, standing beside Ascanius.

"It's all his past magic," he said, awestruck.

"What does that mean?"

"I don't know. I don't understand how this could happen," he admitted. Had he ever heard of such a thing? Perhaps, but the explanation wasn't coming to him.

The spirits surrounded Potter, they were speaking to him... but Ascanius could not hear them. The Dark Lord's red eyes were widened with shock. Potter was beginning to struggle with holding the wand. His face was screwed up from the effort.

The crow in the air shrieked again, swooping low this time. It was illuminated by the light surrounding Potter and the Dark Lord. This time Ascanius's interest was drawn to it. A single crow is uncommon, they travel in groups... and this spectacle of lights should've scared off the thing...

_Click. _

"Now!" yelled Potter. He pulled his wand upward with an almighty wrench, and the golden thread broke. The cage of light vanished, plunging everyone into darkness. Ascanius lost sight of the crow.

**X**  
**X**

The Death Eaters were closing in upon Voldemort, shielding Harry from his gaze –

And Harry ran as he had never run in his life, knocking two stunned Death Eaters aside as he passed. He zig-zagged behind headstones, feeling their curses following him, hearing them hit the headstones – he was dodging curses and graves, pelting towards Cedric's body, no longer aware of the pain in his leg, his whole being concentrated on what he had to do -

"_Stun him!"_ he heard Voldemort scream.

Ten feet from Cedric, Harry dived behind a marble angel to avoid the jets of red light and saw the tip of its wing shatter as the spells hit it. Gripping his wand more tightly, he dashed out from behind the angel -

"_Impedimenta!"_ he bellowed, pointing his wand wildly over his shoulder at the Death Eaters running at him.

From a muffled yell, he thought he had stopped at least one, but there was no time to turn and look. He jumped over the cup and dived as he heard more wand blasts behind him, more jets of red light flew over his head. Stretching out his hand, he grabbed Cedric's arm –

"Stand aside! I will kill him! He is mine!"

Harry's hand had closed on Cedric's wrist. One tombstone stood between him and Voldemort, but Cedric was too heavy to carry, and the Cup was out of reach –

Voldemort's red eyes flamed in the darkness. Harry saw his mouth curl into a smile, saw him raise his wand. Then a small shadow in the sky swept down at his hand, knocking his wand away. Voldemort let out a scream of fury. The Death Eaters sent curses at the fluttering shadow. It was a bird...

"_Accio!"_ Harry yelled, pointing his wand at the Triwizard Cup. It flew into the air, and soared towards him – as did the bird that had saved him – Harry caught the cup by its handle –

He felt several sharp things grip his shoulder at the same moment he felt the jerk behind his naval that meant the Portkey had worked – it was speeding him away in a whirl of wind and color, Cedric along with him... and a crow...

**X**  
**X**

Corvus kept his claws dug into Potter's shoulder, even though ever fiber of his being wanted to let go and turn back into his proper form. Traveling by Portkey as an Animagus wasn't agreeing with him. But he forced himself to stay an magpie. Potter slammed flat into the ground, his face was pressed into the grass. His eyes were closed.

Corvus released Potter and carefully took to the air again. It felt like the whole world was swaying, his balance in the air wavered. He didn't know where he was going, he just knew he couldn't be seen by anyone when he changed back. There were voices everywhere, he could barely make out the Quidditch stands... then the screams started... he flew until he could smell the trees of the Forbidden Forest surround him...

He landed on the floor and transformed back. He was on his hands and knees, he immediately heaved. His hair dangled around his face as he kept hunched over his pile of sick for a moment until he could breath normally again. There hadn't been much in him to vomit up, but it helped after the immense nausea he felt from the Portkey.

He forced himself to stand up. His legs were wobbly, his whole body was shaking with shock, exhaustion and from being violently sick again. It was night time. He could hear a stampede closing in on the maze within the Quidditch pitch, and more screams.

_They found Cedric's body_, he thought. He shivered, wrapping his arms around himself. _Mom... I have to tell her... I have to tell her everything..._

The Muggles on the emergency line had told him to stay on the phone until their police arrived, but Corvus hadn't done that. He'd gone straight back to watching over Potter, waiting to see when he could step in and save them both. He hadn't accomplished anything, Potter saved himself – the best he did was knock You-Know-Who's wand out of his wand at the very end...

Stumbling forward, he hurried to the Quidditch pitch to find his mother and the others. The pitch was coming in and out of focus. He didn't know where this strength was coming from, but it kept him moving. A dark shadow appeared at the entrance and came towards him.

Corvus recoiled in fear, afraid that it might be a Ascanius – his uncle had been watching him fly over them – or perhaps it could even be the Dark Lord himself... but it wasn't either of them. It was Max.

"Corvus! _Corvus!" _

He collapsed into his friend. Max barely managed to keep him from falling face first into the dirt. "He's back... he's back, You-Know-Who," Corvus whispered, closing his eyes.

"What happened?" Daphne's face appeared beside Max's. "Corvus, what happened? Why were you with Potter? We saw you fly away..."

People began to scream Cedric's name behind them, screeching out the words _"He's dead!"_

Max and Daphne looked at each other. His best friends were clearly scared, but they held it together for Corvus. They gently helped him to sit down against a tree. Max conjured up a glass and filled it with water.

"Cedric Diggory's dead... You-Know-Who killed him," Corvus explained after taking a gulp. His body was slowly calming down, his hands weren't shaking so much. "He was going to kill Potter... but there was this thing, their wands were... I don't know! But he's back!"

Daphne covered her mouth, her brown eyes tearing up rapidly. There was a flash of terror across Max's face, he turned back to the pitch, his azure eyes searching for someone. For a moment his body tensed like he was going to run back, but he remained with Corvus.

"What happened Corvus?" he asked, kneeling next to him.

"Ascanius is there too, he's not dead. It was a lie... a trick, I don't know how, but he was there... he did the ritual, he brought back You-Know-Who..."

He could hear Daphne beginning to silently sob into her hands.

"Corvus, do you know how you got there? What happened after your meeting with Moody?"

It clicked. It suddenly clicked. The Dark Lord said there was still a faithful Death Eater in Hogwarts. The memory of Moody giving him Firewhiskey swarmed in his head. He pushed himself off the ground again, ignoring his friends' efforts to keep him resting.

"It's Moody! It's Moody!" he said, forging a path to the pitch. Max and Daphne followed.

"What do you mean? Moody's an Aurora!" said Daphne, pulling on his arm. He suddenly stopped, his two friends ran into him. All three of them went silent.

Moody was taking Potter away from the Quidditch pitch. No one else but the Salesmen saw them.

* * *

...

...

Sorry for the delay, this time I was moving! So I kind of had an excuse, my books were packed up and my flashdrive where I keep all the chapters. Anyway, this chapter was shorter than I thought! I'd been procrastinating with it because I knew I'd be copying a lot from the book, but it turns out it wasn't that bad! Next chapter: Corvus gets to repay Moody for that Firewhiskey... we find out _why_ Corvus was brought to the Riddle house in the first place...


	32. Impostor

**Impostor**

Ascanius heard the faint sound of sirens in the distance. All the Death Eaters knew what the sound meant. They'd heard them before from years ago, when they regularly terrorized Mudbloods.

_Click._

The party was over. Ascanius knew that. It wasn't because they feared the wrath of Muggle policemen – in fact he would give anything to greet them properly – but they couldn't be seen. Anonymity was their greatest weapon.

"All of you, leave at once!" said the Dark Lord, his voice simmering with anger. He was trying to calm himself, but the fury was just below the surface.

"But my Lord, what of Potter? He will tell Dumble –"

"_Crucio!"_ the Dark Lord shouted, torturing Avery for asking the most inappropriate question.

Silent, Ascanius wondered over to stand in the spot Potter had disappeared in. The Boy-Who-Lived disturbed him. Could it have just been luck that he escaped the Dark Lord again? He'd resisted his master's mind control – something Ascanius had never seen, even years ago at the height of his master's rule.

_Click. Click._

And then there was that cage of light and that bird in the sky. Ascanius should have listened to his instincts and killed the crow when he had the chance. But of course he'd become distracted when the cage of light had dispersed and Potter fled. And Ascanius never would've thought the bird would attack his master like it had.

Ascanius looked up into the black sky. So it could have been luck that had saved Potter's life, or he could have had a friend.

"I will summon you when I have need of you," said the Dark Lord, his eyes glinting in the darkness. "Tell no one. Await my orders. The world can not know of us. Not yet."

The Death Eaters murmured in agreement and began to dissapparate until only Wormtail and Ascanius were left. Nagini slithered over Ascanius's foot as he returned to circle his master. The Dark Lord glanced at his pet snake as she hissed.

"Your nephew is gone, Ascanius," he told him suddenly.

"What?" he gasped and looked to the Riddle house on the hill. "How? How can this be?"

The Dark Lord's lipless mouth curled into a horrible scowl. "Seems there was someone else here tonight..."

**X**  
**X**

"Corvus, stop! Think for a second," said Daphne. She roughly yanked on his arm. He wanted to chase after Moody and Potter. They were heading for the castle.

"He's going to kill Potter if I don't do something!" he told her, wrestling against her grip. For a second he thought he'd done it, because she released him. But he only got to take three steps before she threw herself at him, diving for his legs and wrapping her arms fiercely round his knees. He fell to the ground. "Get off of me!"

"No! You're going to get yourself killed!"

He whipped out his wand and aimed it at her. She didn't flinch. He didn't want to hurt her. "Please, Daphne..."

"No," she said firmly.

Cursing loudly he turned to watch Potter disappear into the castle with Moody.

"How do you know it's Moody?" asked Max. He stood over him, his arms crossed and still pale. But he was holding onto his rationality. Corvus stared at him, he knew that his best friend would help him only if he can convince him.

"Because You-Know-Who said his most faithful servant was still in Hogwarts. He's been here the entire time. He's the one who put Potter's name in the goblet of fire – then he turned the Cup into a Portkey to take him to a graveyard – they preformed a ritual to bring him back – "

"What _kind_ of ritual?"

"I don't know!" he shouted. "Listen if you won't let me go, then at least go get Dumbledore or my mother, someone!"

"Tell me about the ritual," he commanded. Corvus sighed exasperatedly.

"There was a cauldron – Ascanius put bits of You-Know-Who's dead father in it and Wormtail's left hand, then – then some of Potter's blood... it changed colors... I don't know all of the colors, I was only there for some of it... I-I heard Wormtail's scream when he – he chopped his hand off."

Max's eyes became distant during his explanation, like they did when he was recalling something from his encyclopedic brain. Then he nodded, "Daphne, go tell Dumbledore."

"What are you going to do?"

"We're going to save Potter," he said plainly. Corvus grinned.

"You're both insane, even if Moody _is_ going to kill Potter, we should let Dumbledore face him," she said, but she let go of Corvus's legs. "I know you two like to think you're the best around here, but this is Alastor Moody we're talking about."

"He's clearly over-excited or what," said Max as he pulled out his own wand. Corvus got to his feet and helped Daphne up. "Everyone's going to notice Potter gone. He didn't think it through, taking Potter away like that."

"Probably because he's going to kill him before anyone notices," said Corvus urgently. "Let's go."

"No," said Max, his azure eyes sharp. "We're not going to make the same mistake he did. We're not going to be stupid."

"Then what are we going to do?"

Instead of answering him, Max turned to face the castle. He raised his wand but didn't speak. Corvus and Daphne waited, standing in silence, until they heard something whizz through the sky. Max caught something out of the air. It was the ear-trumpet.

Corvus was beginning to understand. "He'll go to his office," said Corvus, starting to think again too. "His office's got windows."

"Right."

**X**  
**X**

"And the Death Eaters? They returned?"

"Yes," said Harry. "Loads of them..."

"How did he treat them?" Moody asked quietly. "Did he forgive them?"

But Harry had suddenly remembered. He should have told Dumbledore, he should have said it right away - "There's a Death Eater at Hogwarts! There's a Death Eater here – they put my name in the Goblet of Fire, they made sure I got through to the end – "

Harry tried to get up, but Moody pushed him back down.

"I know who the Death Eater is," he said quietly.

"Karkaroff?" said Harry wildly. "Where is he? Have you got him? Is he locked up?"

"Karkaroff?" said Moody with an odd laugh. "Karkaroff fled tonight, when he felt the Dark Mark burn upon his arm. He betrayed too many faithful supporters of the Dark Lord to wish to meet them … but I doubt he will get far. The Dark Lord has ways of tracking his enemies."

"Karkaroff's _gone?_ He ran away? But then – he didn't put my name in the Cup?"

"No," said Moody slowly. "No, he didn't. It was I who did that."

Harry heard, but didn't believe. "No, you didn't... you didn't do that... you can't have done..."

"I assure you I did," said Moody, and his magical eye swung around, and fixed upon the door, and Harry knew he was making sure that there was no one outside it. At the same time, Moody drew out his wand, and pointed it at Harry.

"He forgave them, then?" he said. "The Death Eaters who went free? The ones who escaped Azakaban?"

"What?" He was looking at the wand Moody was pointing at him. This was a bad joke, it had to be.

"I asked you, whether he forgave the scum who never even went to look for him. Those treacherous cowards who wouldn't even brave Azkaban for him. The faithless, worthless bits of filth who were brave enough to cavort in masked at the Quidditch World Cup, but fled at the sight of the Dark Mark when I fired it into the sky."

"_You_ fired... what are you talking about..."

"I told you, Harry... I told you. It there's one thing I hate more than anything, it's a Death Eater who walked free. They turned their backs on my master, when he needed them most. I expected him to punish them. I expected him to torture them. Tell me he hurt them, Harry..." Moody's face was suddenly lit with an insane smile. "Tell me he told them that I, I alone remained faithful... prepared to risk everything to deliver him the one this wanted above all... _you._"

"You didn't... it – it can't be you..."

"Who put your name in the Goblet of Fire, under the name of a different school? I did. Who frightened off every person I thought might try to hurt you or prevent you winning the Tournament? I did. Who nudged Hagrid into showing you the dragons? I did. Who helped you see the only way you could beat the dragon? _I did._"

Moody's magical eye had now left the door. It was fixed upon Harry. His lopsided mouth leered more widely than ever. "I even had a hand in convincing Corvus Black to help you. It hasn't been easy, Harry, guiding you without arousing suspicion."

**X**  
**X**

"He's confessing to everything," whispered Max, the trumpet to his ear. They were crouching behind a bush on the school grounds, beneath Moody's office window. Thankfully the window's shutters weren't closed. All they had to take care of was the glass.

"Should I go?"

"No... I can heard Dumbledore and others entering the castle... we might not have to do anything..." he continued listening.

"You're mad... you're mad!" he heard Potter's voice.

"Mad, am I?" Moody's voice was rising. "We'll see! We'll see who's mad, now that the Dark Lord has returned, with me at his side! He is back, Harry Potter, you did not conquer him – "

"Maybe I spoke too soon," said Max, voice still steady. He knew it was best not to worry Corvus before he went into this. "Go now."

"...and now – I conquer you!"

Corvus aimed his wand at the window and used a Vanishing Spell to get rid of the glass. Then for a third time that night, he turned into his magpie form.

**X**  
**X**

Moody raised his wand, he opened his mouth, Harry plunged his own hand into his robes –

There was a flutter of a shadow that distracted both of them. A slender crow at swooped in through a window to their side. Harry wildly thought back to that crow that had latched onto his shoulder before he was transported back to Hogwarts. Could it be the same one?

Just as it flew in, there was a small _pop_ –

"Corvus!" gasped Harry. The fifth-year Slytherin was covered in dirt smudges, grass stains and sweat. He had his wand out, aimed at Moody and his gray eyes shined ferociously.

"Drop your wand," he hissed at Moody. Moody's maniacal grin was gone. He looked as baffled and confused as Harry did.

"You're an Animagus..." he said in awe.

"I said _drop your wand_."

Moody laughed, "Why are you here, Corvus? You don't like Harry. You borderline hate him."

Harry stared up at the Slytherin, thinking back on all the less than pleasant interactions they've had over the year. Why _was _he here? How did he know to follow him and Moody... then it struck him. The crow _had_ been the same, the crow was Corvus Black.

"Are you here to hear why I poisoned you?" Moody leered. "I take it your uncle never got the chance to tell you, did he?"

Corvus blinked but remained silent.

"He wanted you away from your mother once and for all. He's always wanted that, you know why? Because you can still be saved," he told him. His wand was still pointed at Harry, stopping him from doing anything. "I told him all about you, how cunning you are, how resourceful... how ambitious... We both agreed, you're exactly what the Dark Lord wants. I really thought my master would have killed those treacherous scum... making room for a new generation of followers. He can teach you great things. So much more than you'll ever learn here."

Harry's eyes kept switching from watching Moody and Corvus. It was hard to tell what could be going through Corvus's mind. This long pause was beginning to worry Harry.

Corvus Black wouldn't join the Death Eaters, would he?

"_Stupefy!"_

White light erupted from Corvus's wand and there was a blinding flash of red light from Harry's other side. With a great splintering and crashing, the door of Moody's office was blasted apart –

**X  
****X**

Moody was thrown backwards onto the office floor. Corvus's eyes widened, he'd only cast a Full Body-Bind curse. He and Potter exchanged bewildered looks, then they noticed Dumbledore, Professor Snape and McGonagall standing in the doorway, Dumbledore in front, his wand outstretched.

During his years as a rule-breaker, Corvus was quite laissez faire about the idea of facing Dumbledore if he ever got caught. But now he was beginning to rethink that, because the look upon Dumbledore's face as he stared down at the unconscious form of Moody was more terrible than Corvus could ever have imagined. There was no benign smile upon Dumbledore's face, no twinkle in the eyes behind the spectacles. There was cold fury in every line of the ancient face; a sense of power radiated from Dumbledore as though he was giving off burning heat.

He stepped into the office, placed a foot underneath Moody's unconscious body and kicked him over onto his back, so that his face was visible. Snape followed him, but took a half-step back when he saw Corvus.

"Black, what are you doing here?"

"I – I was put in the cupboard," he stammered, looking around himself, trying to find the alleged cupboard. Thankfully there was indeed a cupboard to point to. "Moody locked me in there. But I got out."

Professor McGongall went straight to Potter. Corvus found Potter staring at him though. With all the confusion and horror of that evening, Corvus silently pleaded with him not to give him away. He _had_ saved his life after all, he kinda owed him a favor.

"Come along, Potter," she whispered and beckoned for Corvus to come closer. The thin line of her mouth was twitching as though she was about to cry. "You too, Black, come along... hospital wing..."

"No," said Dumbledore sharply.

"Dumbledore, he ought to – look at him – he's been through enough tonight – "

"They will stay, Minerva, because they need to understand," said Dumbledore curtly. "Understanding is the first step to acceptance, and only with acceptance can there be recovery. Harry needs to know who has put him through the ordeal he has suffered tonight, and why."

"Moody," said Potter. He was still in a state of complete disbelief. "How can it have been Moody?"

"This is not Alastor Moody," said Dumbledore quietly. "You have never known Alastor Moody. The real Moody would not have removed you from my sight after what happened tonight. The moment he took you. I knew."

Dumbledore bent down over Moody's limp form and put a hand inside his robes. He pulled out Moody's hip flask, and a set of keys on a ring.

"_Corvus!" _

His mother appeared in the empty doorway. Her eyes first found Corvus standing there, looking like he'd been to hell and back, then her eyes glanced at all the other disturbing things in the room – like the fake Moody on the floor and an injured Potter. She rushed into the room, immediately embracing her son.

"Corvus... oh Corvus! What happened?" she said in his ear. Perhaps it was because he himself smelt bad, but Corvus took comfort in breathing in his mother's scent. He felt safe. He hugged her back just as tightly.

"I'm okay, mum."

"Where were you?"

"This impostor had him locked in a cupboard all night," explained Snape. Surprisingly, his tone wasn't snide. Leandra eased her hold on Corvus and looked to the Alastor Moody on the floor. Dumbledore stood up and turned to the adults.

"Severus, please fetch me the strongest Truth Potion you possess, and then go down to the kitchens, and bring up the house-elf called Winky. Leandra, where is Snuffles?

"Hagrid's, in the pumpkin patch," she answered, unabashed by how ridiculous this sounded. If McGonagall or Snape thought so too, they hid their confusion.

"Will you kindly go and escort Snuffles to my office –"

"Like hell I'm leaving my son," she interrupted sharply. Considering how scary Dumbledore had seemed a moment ago, Corvus felt afraid for his mother. He never would've believed she'd refuse an order from Albus Dumbledore. "I won't. I'm standing right here, Albus, with my son."

Dumbledore nodded, and said quietly, "Of course, you're right. Minerva, would you please go down to Hagrid's house instead, where you will find a large black dog sitting in the pumpkin patch. Take the dog up to my office, tell him I will be with him shortly, then come back here."

Both McGonagall and Snape turned at once and left the office. Leandra unwrapped her arms from around Corvus, settling on holding his hand. Her grip was so tight, his fingers actually hurt a little. But she was unaware of how hard she was squeezing him. Together they watched Dumbledore walk over to the trunk with seven locks, fitted the first key in the lock, and opened it. It contained a mass of spellbooks. Dumbledore closed the trunk, placed a second key in the second lock, and opened the trunk again.

While he went through the different locks, Corvus thought back on the faces he'd seen in the graveyard. In particular he thought of Ascanius Stirling's crooked face. His uncle had Moody poison him and send him to that creepy house by the graveyard – because he wanted Corvus to be a Death Eater.

His mother didn't know yet, she didn't know her hated brother was still alive and strong. He felt a sickening drop in his stomach at the thought of telling her.

Dumbledore placed the seventh key into the lock, threw open the lid, and Potter gave a cry of amazement. They were looking down into a kind of pit, an underground room, and lying on the floor some ten feet below, apparently fast asleep, thin and starved in appearance. His wooden leg was gone, the socket which should have held the magical eye looked empty beneath its lid, and chunks of his grizzled hair were missing. Corvus and Potter stared, thunder-struck.

Leandra let go of Corvus's hand to move forward and help Dumbledore into the trunk. She helped him lower himself onto the floor beside the sleeping Moody. He bent over him.

"Stunned – controlled by the Imperius curse – very weak," he said. "Of course, they would have needed to keep him alive. Leandra, throw down the impostor's cloak, Alastor is freezing. Madam Pomfrey will need to see him, but he seems in no immediate danger."

Leandra did as she was told. Dumbledore covered Moody in the cloak, tucked it around him and clambered out of the trunk again. Then he picked up the hip-flask that stood upon the desk, unscrewed it and turned it over. A thick glutinous liquid splattered onto the office floor.

"Polyjuice potion," said Leandra. Dumbledore nodded.

"You see the simplicity of it, and the brilliance. For Moody never _does_ drink except from his hip-flask, he's well known for it. The impostor needed, of course, to keep the real Moody close by, so that he could continue making the Potion. You see his hair... the impostor's been cutting it off all year, see where it is uneven? But I think, in the excitement of tonight, our fake Moody might have forgotten to take it as frequently as he should have done... on the hour... every hour... we shall see."

Dumbledore pulled out the chair at the desk and sat down upon it, his eyes fixed upon the unconscious Moody on the floor. Leandra conjured up two cushioned seats for her and Corvus. They all stared at the impostor. Minutes passed in silence...

Corvus wondered if Max was still listening in with the ear-trumpet...

Then, before their very eyes, the face of the man on the floor began to change. The scars were disappearing, the skin was becoming smooth, the mangled nose became whole, and started to shrink. The long mane of grizzled grey hair was withdrawing into the scalp, and turning the color of straw. Suddenly, with a loud _clunk_ the wooden leg fell away as a normal leg regrew in its place. Next moment, the magical eyeball had popped out of the man's face as a real eye replaced it. It rolled away across the floor and continued to swivel in every direction.

Corvus studied the man lying before them. He was pale-skinned, slightly freckled, with a mop of fair hair. He was rather young. He'd never seen him before –

"Barty Crouch?" breathed Leandra.

"Who?" asked Corvus.

She blinked, "Barty Crouch Jr. He... he's supposed to be dead."

_A lot of people are supposed to be dead, huh?_ He thought wryly.

There were hurried footsteps outside in the corridor. Snape had returned with Winky at his heels. Professor McGonagall was right behind them.

"Crouch!" said Snape, stopping dead in the doorway.

"Good heavens!" said McGonagall, stopping dead and staring down at the man on the floor.

Filthy, dishevelled, Winky peered around Snape's legs. Her mouth opened wide and she let out a piercing shriek. "Master Barty, Master Barty, what is you doing here?"

She flung herself forwards onto the young man's chest. "You is killed him! You is killed him! You is killed master's son!"

"He is simply stunned, Winky," said Dumbledore. "Step aside, please. Severus, you have the potion?"

Snape handed Dumbledore a small glass bottle of completely clear liquid, Veritaserum. Dumbledore got up, bent over Barty Crouch Jr. and pulled him into a sitting position against the wall. Winky remained on her knees, trembling, her hands over her face. Dumbledore forced the man's mouth open and pour three drops inside it. Then he pointed his wand at the man's chest, and said, "_Enervate."_

Crouch's son opened his eyes. Air got caught in Leandra's throat for a moment, because his eyes seemed to immediately lock onto her. But she relaxed when she saw that his gaze was unfocused, his face was slack. Dumbledore knelt before him, so that their faces were level and he was blocking her from view.

"Can you hear me?"

The man's eyelids flickered.

"Yes," he muttered.

Corvus inhaled deeply. His mother was going to find out the truth. The whole truth. About Ascanius, but also maybe about Corvus being at the graveyard and being an Animagus...

* * *

...

...

Not that long of a wait, yay-ish? Anyway, I realized writing this chapter that I have to really figure out how I'm going to write the whole Barty Crouch pours out his little black heart scene, whilst addressing Corvus and Leandra's presence! I realize now that maybe Corvus's secret will have to be revealed... oh well, we'll see!

R&R! Thank you to everyone who's reviewed, I try to reply to every review and if I forgot this time around, I apologize a thousand times!


	33. Secrets

**A/N**

**Hmmm**, so it's been a while. I apologize. I've been working and traveling, moved at least three times since the last update! Excuses excuses. I've recently reread this fic, and while some stuff I really want to go back on and change (like last chapter, can we pretend that Daphne doesn't burst into sobs?) I still really like this fic and I have everything written out in terms of plot points, so let's try to finish it!

Long overdue new chapter! But hey! Better later than never? Yes? I've got the next chapter written up!

* * *

**Secrets**

Leandra looked down up the man before them. Pale-skinned, slightly freckled, with a mop of fair hair, she was surprised she recognized him. They went to Hogwarts together. She was either one or two years ahead of him, she couldn't remember. All she remembered of Barty Crouch Jr. was how he used to fawn over Regulus and her. He had stars in his eyes like many Death Eater pledges. It seemed the crazed glint in his eyes hadn't faded entirely. But now he had heavy lines under his madmen eyes.

"I would like you to tell us," said Dumbledore softly, "how you come to be here. How did you escape from Azkaban?"

Crouch took a deep, shuddering breath, then began in a flat, expressionless voice. "My mother saved me. She knew she was dying. She persuaded my father to rescue me as a last favor to her. He loved her as he had never loved me. He agreed. They came to visit me. They gave me a draught of Polyjuice Potion, containing one of my mother's hairs. She took a draught of Polyjuice Potion, containing one of my hairs. We took on each other's appearance."

The house elf was shaking her head, trembling. "Say no more, Master Barty, say no more, you is getting your father in trouble!"

"The Dementors are blind," he continued in the same flat voice. "They sensed one healthy, one dying person entering Azkaban. They sense one healthy, one dying person leaving it. My father smuggled me out, disguised as my mother, in case any prisoners were watching through their doors. My mother died a short while afterwards in Azkaban. She was careful to drink Polyjuice Potion until the end. She was buried under my name, and bearing my appearance. Everyone believed her to be me."

"And what did your father do with you, when he had got you home?" said Dumbledore quietly.

"Staged my mother's death. A quiet, private funeral. That grave is empty. The house elf nursed me back to health. Then I had to be concealed, I had to be controlled. My father used a number of spells to subdue me. When I had recovered my strength, I thought only of finding my master… of returning to his service."

Crouch continued to explain how his father had used the Imperius curse to subdue him, how Bertha Jorkins made the mistake of discovering him and what he'd done at the Quidditch World Cup. He told them how Voldemort conceived a plan based on the information Bertha Jorkins had given him.

Voldemort came to Crouch's house. At this point in the story a smile spread wider over Crouch's face, as though recalling the sweetest memory of his life. Winky's petrified brown eyes were visible through her fingers as he recounted how the Dark Lord placed his father under the Imperius Curse.

"Now my father was the one imprisoned, controlled. My master forced him to go about his business as usual, to act as though nothing was wrong. And I was released. I awoke. I was myself again, alive as I hadn't been in years."

Leandra felt sick and enraged at once. It made her sick that Crouch's mother had died for him to have a second chance and it enraged her how Crouch senior had let it happen. It made her sick what happened to Bertha Jorkins. It enraged her how Crouch handled the World Cup. It made her sick that Voldemort was alive and it enraged her as well. It had come down to this man, this meek and faded human man sitting before them.

"And what did Lord Voldemort ask you to do?" said Dumbledore.

"He asked me whether I was ready to risk everything for him. I was ready. It was my dream, my greatest ambition, to serve him, to prove myself to him. He told me he needed to place a faithful servant at Hogwarts. A servant who would guide Harry Potter through the Triwizard Tournament without appearing to do so. A servant who would watch over Harry Potter. Ensure he reached the Triwizard Cup. Turn the cup into a Portkey, which would take the first person to touch it to my master. But first - "

"You needed Alastor Moody," finished Dumbledore. Leandra noticed his blue eyes blazing, though his voice remained calm. Crouch continued explaining the grand scheme.

"And what became of Wormtail after you attacked?" said Dumbledore.

"Wormtail returned to care for my master and to help in Ascanius' escape."

Leandra took a deep breath. All she wanted to do was bludgeon the man, but that would not help. Listening to the story of how Crouch took Moody's place, a suspicion became to grow that Polyjuice Potion had been involved in his brother's escape as well.

"How did Ascanius escape?" she asked, her voice tense and slow.

"Métis Stirling - "

The name sent her reeling. She shut her eyes and she could see her feeble, useless cousin in her mind. Of course, that twisted Squib had been involved. Why had she let her slip through her fingers? Why hadn't she done something when she had the chance?

"- gave us Muggle medicines to make it look like Ascanius' heart was sick," he explained. "No one at Nurmengard could tell the difference."

She had ignored the letters about his health.

"When it was time, Metis disguised herself using the Polyjuice Potion, she disguised herself as you," Crouch slowly turned his head to gaze at Leandra. She wanted to hit him. She wanted to hurt him. She didn't want to believe him. "She took his place and died for him."

"Where is he now?" she hissed.

"With my master," he said. _I will kill them both_, she wanted to promise aloud. "When Ascanius was freed he joined Wormtail in my father's house. Together they kept watch over my father."

"But your father escaped," said Dumbledore.

"Yes. After a while he began to fight the Imperius Curse just as I had. My master decided it was no longer safe for my father to leave the house. He forced him to send letters to the Ministry instead. He made him write and say he was ill. Ascanius was still too ill from Metis' trick. Wormtail neglected his duty. He was not watchful enough. My father escaped. My master guessed that he was heading for Hogwarts. My father was going to tell Dumbledore everything, to confess. He was going to admit that he had smuggled me from Azkaban."

She heard the rest of his tale, but her mind was distracted. She kept imagining what her brother looks like now. She imagined him with a twisted, aged face. She remembered how broken his jaw and nose had been. His eyes must be as hallowed and crazed as Crouch's, perhaps more so. He'd been refused light while imprisoned. He must be as pale as death. He must look like death.

And he was going to come after her. She glanced at Corvus. She had no doubt him being locked in a cupboard had to do with Ascanius. Her brother was continuing his slaughter of their family. He was going to continue tormenting her.

"Dumbledore told me to go and look for my father. I went back to my father's body. Watched the map. When everyone was gone, I Transfigured my father's body. He became a bone… I buried it, while wearing the Invisibility Cloak, in the freshly dug earth in front of Hagrid's cabin."

There was complete silence now, except for Winky's continued sobs. Then Dumbledore said, "And tonight…"

"I offered to carry the Triziward Cup into the maze before dinner," whispered Barty Crouch. "Turned it into a Portkey. My master's plan worked. He is returned to power and I will be honored by him beyond the dreams of wizards."

The insane smile lit his features once more, and his head drooped onto his shoulder as Winky wailed and sobbed at his side.

"Did you kidnap my son for Ascanius?" Leandra asked.

"Yes," he said almost blissfully, "He belongs with us and we would have protected him from your filthy touch. But your son - "

"Beat you," she cut him off. Corvus was staring at her, wide-eyed. "Just like we will beat your master."

Dumbledore stood up. He stared down at Barty Crouch for a moment with digust on his face. Then he raised his wand once more and ropes flew out of it, ropes that twisted themselves around Crouch, binding him tightly. He turned to Professor McGonagall.

"Minerva, could I ask you to stand guard here while I take Harry upstairs?"

"Of course."

"Leandra and Corvus," he turned to them. "Please tell Madam Pomfrey to come down here. We need to get Alastor Moody into the hospital wing."

"Yes," she nodded. Corvus looked slightly nauseous and as he walked pass Crouch to get to the door, he watched the bound man warily.

They stepped outside and Leandra quickly pulled her son aside. She pushed his hair back from his forehead to check for any nasty cuts or bruises. She rolled up his sleeves for the same thing. "How do you feel? Does anything hurt?"

"No… I'm – I'm okay," he mumbled. He glanced at the closed door.

"You're safe now," she assured him, kissing him on the cheek. The entire tournament she had wondered where he boy had gone. A part of her just hoped he was off with his French girlfriend somewhere in the bleachers. But then when Harry and Cedric Diggory had reappeared and chaos broke, she ran through the crowd searching for him. That was when Daphne had found her, telling her in a jumbled, panicked way that Corvus was in Moody's office. "I'm sorry, Corvus… I should've known something like this was going to happen. I should have done so many things differently… I will never let him get close to you again."

She could tell he was tired. She imagined all he wanted to do was rest and to forget about everything that happened. Her hands shook as she embraced him.

He remained silent the entire way to the hospital wing. Leandra quickly told Madam Pomfrey about Moody and then guided Corvus to a nearby bed. He lay on his back, staring at the ceiling, while she sat up on the bed next to his. She'd have given up every gold coin she had at Gringotts to know what he was thinking.

"Mum, I have to tell you something," he broke the silence. "I – I was there."

"What?" she whispered.

"I was there when… when You-Know-Who, you know, came back to life."

She blinked. She blinked again. Her mind was a complete blank. "H-how? What? _How?"_

He sat up. He still didn't look at her. "Before the tournament Moody called me into his office. Or Crouch called me into Moody's office, whatever. He gave me a drink and I passed out. When I woke up I was in an empty house, nowhere near Hogwarts."

"Was he there?" she demanded. Had Ascanius really come so close?

"No, or he was, but not in the house. I was in some Muggle village. I woke up to someone screaming, I think it was Wormtail," he began. He told her everything. He'd seen Wormtail, bloodied and handless, how Ascanius took blood from Potter and put it in a cauldron. Voldemort had emerged from the cauldron, and told her all he could remember of his speech. He explained how Voldemort untied Harry, returned his wand to him, and prepared to duel.

When he reached the part where the golden beam of light had connected Potter's and Voldemort's wands, Leandra interrupted, "The wands connected?"

Corvus looked at her and nodded. "I don't know why. Maybe Potter knew some spell."

When Leandra was very young there'd been a small scandal in the family relating to her third-cousin, Paris. Instead of following in his father's footsteps as a Crafter, he'd decided to become Ollivander's apprentice and follow his dream of becoming a wand-maker. Luckily Paris's then sixty-five yeard old father remarried to a twenty-four year old pureblood, together they had another son. So Paris was free to pursue whatever silly thing he wanted.

Leandra remembered one New Years Eve party when she was in her third year. She'd spoken to Paris about why he found wands so fascinating. He tried explaining their mystery, one of his examples was _Priori Incantatem._

"The Reverse Spell effect," she said, sharply. "Harry had no idea, I doubt it anyway. His wand and Voldemort's wand must share cores. They will not work properly against each other. What you saw was one wand forcing the other to regurgitate spells it has performed – in reverse. The most recent first and then those which preceded it…" She looked interrogatively at Corvus. "Which means… that some form of his victims must have reappeared."

Corvus nodded. "I left to call the Muggle police, I knew they couldn't do anything but I thought maybe they could break them up. When I came back, I saw… I saw Cedric Diggory and – and Potter's parents."

Leandra sighed. Potter and her son were too young to have to live through a night like this. Her heart went out to Harry. To have seen his parents… she could not imagine seeing her parents ever again… or Regulus… only to have them taken away again. "The last murders the wand preformed, in reverse order."

"I think they were helping him, they were prowling the edges of the golden web around them. You-Know-Who looked afraid. His mother's ghost was speaking to him."

"It wasn't a ghost, it was an echo of her," she said, "which retained her character and appearance. It wasn't a ghost."

"Potter broke the connection then, and grabbed Diggory's body. He grabbed the Goblet of Fire and we came back to Hogwarts."

She frowned, suddenly realizing the gapping hole in her son's narrative. "_How_ did you get so close? I saw Harry returning with Cedric Diggory's body, I didn't see you."

Corvus looked away from her again, suddenly very guilty looking. "I – I sort of… am an Animagus."

Her eyes widened. She must've heard him incorrectly. "Come again?"

"I am an Animagus," he repeated. "For like… the last few weeks… sorry."

She covered her face in her hands. Why was a part of her _not _surprised? She'd given him too much independence. She should've shut down that silly club of his years ago, the second word of it had reached her. Instead she had given him the benefit of the doubt, to know when he's gone too far. But apparently there was no line to cross, just an open horizon of opportunities.

_It saved his life. _It was true. If he hadn't been an animagus, he would have been Ascanius's. He would be lost to her right now. And perhaps Harry would have been killed by Crouch if he hadn't intervened.

"You're an Animagus," she repeated finally. She uncovered her face and looked at her son. He was bracing himself. "What is your form?"

"A magpie."

_Suitable. _"Is it safe to assume your friends are also Animagi?"

After a brief pause, he shook his head. "Not all of them."

Her eyes narrowed slightly. He wasn't going to immediately give her names. _Secrets can protect you_, she reminded herself. This secret had certainly guarded her son. She had to admit it. "I'm torn between being mad and proud."

He smiled sheepishly.

"I will pass along this information to Dumbledore," she told him, rising from her seat. "Dumbledore knows how to keep a secret, better than anyone. And it did save you tonight. Did you follow Harry to Moody's office?"

"Yes, I told Max and Daphne to get you and Dumbledore," he said. "I was waiting outside his office window, listening and when he was about to, you know, I came in."

"I'm leaning more towards being proud of you," she smiled at him. The door to the hospital wing opened. She glanced back to find Madam Pomfrey walking in with Alastor Moody unconscious on a levitated stretcher. She gave her son a peck on the forehead before leaving to help assist the nurse. No sooner had they laid him down on a bed and covered him with a thick, wool blanket did more guests come waltzing into the hospital wing.

Mrs. Weasley, Bill, Ron and Hermione entered first, followed by Daphne and Max. All of them were white-faced and frantic looking. First they noticed Leandra and Madam Pomfrey over Alastor Moody, then they saw Corvus sitting to the side, confused looking. Then the questions came spewing out. "Where's Harry? Is he safe? Where is Dumbledore? What happened? What's wrong? _Where's Harry?"_

The questions were all directed at Madam Pomfrey and Leandra. Discreetly, Daphne and Max gravitated towards Corvus, staring at him cautiously. Thankfully they didn't demand any answers from him. Leandra wondered if Hermione and the Weasleys knew her son was involved.

With impeccable timing, Dumbledore arrived with Harry and Sirius. The group surrounding the harassed-looking Madam Pomfrey whipped around as they entered. Mrs. Weasley let out a kind of muffled scream. "Harry! Oh Harry!"

She started toward him, but Dumbledore moved between them. "Molly, please listen to me for a moment. Harry has been through a terrible ordeal tonight. He has just had to relive it for me. What he needs now is sleep, and peace, and quiet. If he would like you to stay with him," he nodded, looking around at Ron, Hermione and Bill too, "you may do so. But I do not want you questioning him until he is ready to answer, and certainly not this evening."

Mrs. Weasley nodded. She rounded on Ron, Hermione and Bill as thought they were being noisy and hissed, "Did you hear? He needs quiet!"

Sirius padded up to Leandra and his snout nudged her hand. She gave him a ghost of a smile. They both knew this was the beginning of something dark again.

"Headmaster," said Madam Pomfrey, staring at the great black dog that was Sirius. "May I ask what – ?"

"This dog will be remaining with Harry for a while," said Dumbeldore simply. "I assure you, he is extremely well trained. Harry – I will wait while you get into bed. I will be back to see you as soon as I have met with Fudge. I would like you to remain here tomorrow until I have spoken to the school. Leandra – if I could have a word with you in my office."

She was surprised. Considering how he was sparing Harry anymore questions and ordering everyone to give him rest and peace, she thought the Headmaster was surely to extend the favor to her and Corvus. But she could tell from his stare that she shouldn't refuse him again tonight. She nodded and followed him downstairs to his office.

**X**

**X**

"You can go back if you want," Max offered her. He was sitting on the windowsill next to Corvus's bed. Corvus was sound asleep. Madam Pomfrey had given him a potion for dreamless sleep. Daphne sat at a seat next to his bed.

"Would _you_ want to leave?" she asked him, sharply. He shook his head, knowing that it meant she wasn't going anywhere either. She looked to where Potter's bed was, sectioned off by a screen. She could see the big black dog lying down by the end of the bed and everyone's feet under the screen. That big black dog had been with Miss Leandra earlier. "I can't believe it," she said after a while.

"I can."

She looked at him. He was staring outside at the sky. It was a very clear sky. "Wizards can't come back from the dead."

"Maybe he wasn't dead."

She'd heard those theories. But she never believed in conspiracies. Surely the Ministry would've been tracking his whereabouts if the Dark Lord was hiding all these years. "It can't really be_ him_," she said, crossing her arms.

"Why not?" She couldn't tell if he was trying to rile her up on purpose. Why was he so calm?

"It's insane."

"You're scared."

"Aren't you?"

"Of course, but you don't need to be," he met her glare. "You're a pureblood."

"Pureblood or half-blood, we'd all be in danger if You-Know-Who is actually back."

"I'm not a half-blood."

She was about to snap at him again, to tell him he was missing the point, but then she realized she was the one missing the point. "You're… you're not pureblood or half-blood. So you're – I mean, but you're in Slytherin."

"Craziest thing you've heard tonight or what?" he gave a feeble half-grin. But it was gone immediately and he looked out the window again. She'd never seen him look so sad, so defeated.

"I won't tell anyone," she told him.

"I know you won't."

The door to the hospital wing swung open and Leandra Black strode in, looking vexed. The dog behind the screen got up and ducked under the screen, trotting up to her. She left him nudge her hand and she gave him a short pat on the head. "You'll find out," she told him before leaving him to approach Corvus's bed. She slowed down when she saw Max and her.

"I forgot about you two," she admitted. "You're both to return to your rooms. I need to take Corvus somewhere else to rest. I'm sorry but I can't tell you much, Corvus can fill you in if he sees fit. Please go."

She didn't look to be in the mood for questions.

* * *

Oh hey, some Max and Daphne friendship bonding! I feel like i should treat you guys for waiting around and believing in me! If you still do... But anyway next chapter has some Cho/Max moments and we find out how the Stirling Tower is going to play the game in the next stage of wizarding history...


	34. The Beginning

**A/N **Thank you for the reviews! Unfortunately this chapter is a very short one, I just couldn't think of what else to add in it. I know what else is going to happen but I didn't want to dump it all in this chapter. Anyway I hope it's enjoyable!

* * *

**The Beginning**

It didn't feel right. It didn't make any sense. He'd been smiling. He'd waved to her before setting off into that maze. She'd even awkwardly introduced herself to his parents. They were so lovely to her. They'd been smiling too that day. It just didn't make any sense.

The large hour-glasses holding the House points hung on the wall behind her. An hour ago the Entrance Hall had been packed with confused students, but they started slipping away to their rooms. Cedric's parents were still outside or maybe they were brought to Hogsmeade. Cho didn't know where they'd taken his body. No one knew yet.

She looked up at the hour-glasses. The dim candle lights in the Entrance Hall bounced off the colored jewels within. He'd invited her to Hogsmeade with him. On that day she stood waiting for him in this exact spot. She'd been so excited, but it felt awkward waiting on her own. So she stood facing the hour-glasses, counting as many jewels as she could.

"Cho, let's go to bed," Marietta said gently. Her arms were around her, holding her close and her hand kept making circles on her back. Jocelyn was holding Cho's left hand. It had been a few minutes now since she'd been sobbing. But she wasn't ready to go to bed yet.

"They'll know more tomorrow," Jocelyn told her. "You need to rest."

It was weird to think that tomorrow was going to happen. It just felt weird that another day was just going to start up again. It was too weird. She shut her eyes tightly and felt the tears well up again.

"Cho?"

It wasn't _his _voice. But it was a voice she knew all the same. In fact she knew that voice the best. She opened her eyes and wiped the tears away with the back of her hand. Maxwell Love was standing at the bottom of the grand staircase, he looked pale and terrible just like her. But his dark blue eyes were still sharp and they were focused on her.

"Max," she started, her voice cracking half way through the single syllable. All over again it happened. She didn't want to fight it anymore, it was too overpowering. Her shoulders shook and she buried her face, "Max. Oh, Max."

Her two friends released her from their hold and took a step back as Max came forward and without hesitation put his arms around her. He hugged her and she let all her emotions cave in again. "I can take her up," he told her friends.

Cho kept her face buried in Max's chest, shamelessly staining his robes with her tears. But she could hear her friends mumble their goodbyes and then another voice, "See you later then."

"Yeah, Daphne." _Urgh how embarrassing! _

He squeezed her tighter and didn't say anything for a long time. She eventually unfolded her arms to hug him back. Eventually her lip stopped quivering and her chest wasn't heaving. Once she was down to just sniffles, she whispered, "Thanks."

"You're okay," he told her. For another moment they kept holding each other, but then he released her and looked down at her. She had to crane her head back to meet his gaze. "Do you want a cup of tea?"

She smiled meekly. The British answer to any and all turmoil. "Yes."

He took her hand and led her to the basement, directly under the Great Hall. For half a heartbeat she glanced down the corridor Cedric used to always disappear down on his way to the Hufflepuff basement. But they veered off to the right to a painting of a bowl of fruit.

"Don't go telling anyone or what," Max gave her one of his half-smirks before he reached for the pear in the painting. He tickled the fruit. It squirmed and laughed then turned into a green door-knob.

They stepped in. The kitchens were in an enormous, high-ceiling room, as large as the Great Hall above it, with mounds of glittering brass pots and pans heaped around the stone walls, and a great brick fireplace at the other end. While the rest of the castle was quiet, either sleeping or lying in bed listlessly, the kitchens were alive with over ninety House Elves scuttling about. Max ordered two cups of chamomile tea and pulled up a stool for Cho to sit, he leaned against one of the tables.

"Do you know anything?" she asked him as they waited for their tea. She stared at the floor. Max usually knew everything that was going on in Hogwarts. He and his friends were never caught off guard. They were on top of everything, grades included.

"Potter's in Hospital."

She nodded. Harry had been swept away really quickly. She closed her eyes tightly as the image of Cedric's dead body came up again. "Do you know – do you know how Cedric died?"

"Dumbledore will tell us," he said. Her eyes began to sting with tears anew. The House elf served them their tea.

X

X

Louis sat up in his bed and tore open the curtains of his bed. "There was definitely a crow, wasn't there?"

From behind the curtains of his four-poster bed, Anwar answered, "Yeah."

"And it flew away, but it was a crow. It's weird that a crow came back with Potter and Diggory," He looked over at Corvus's bed, completely untouched and then at Max's. He narrowed his eyes, "Max and Daphne weren't in the commons, were they?"

"No." Anwar pulled open his curtains as well. Neither of them were going to get any rest. No one in the castle was. When they'd left the commons it was still full of befuddled Slytherins.

They weren't even sure if Cedric Diggory was dead. Many had seen his body, it certainly looked dead but no one had confirmed it yet. Potter was alive, he looked injured but he was alive. It didn't take long for people to bring up Rita Skeeter's article about how disturbed and dangerous Potter was. No one was talking about the crow that fled the scene.

"It wasn't a prank gone wrong, you think?" he asked Anwar. He gave him a look that told him he was being stupid. "Well why else was he in that maze with them?"

"We've got to wait to hear it from him."

"He's not about to come running to us about it, is he? He hasn't spoken to us in ages."

"Hn."

Louis knew that was mostly their fault. They'd been the ones to cut off communication first. He still felt they have valid reasons, but this night... he just really wanted to know what happened to his friend.

He laid back again, since there was really nothing else he could do but wait like Anwar said. "I could really do with a cup of tea," he blurted. "But I don't want to go out there again."

"Yeah, I've had enough of listening to stupid people say stupid things about someone dying."

"Exactly."

X

X

Corvus woke up, so warm, so very sleep, and he didn't want to open his eyes. The room was still dark. It didn't feel like he had slept long at all. Then he heard his mother's voice.

"You need to wake up, Corvy. I'm sorry." Her hand was brushing back his hair. He opened his eyes blearily. "You have to get up. We need to go somewhere else. It's important, Corvus. I'll explain."

Madam Pomfrey was standing behind his mother, her arms crossed, clearly disapproving.

"I apologize, Madam Pomfrey," his mother looked over her shoulder at the older woman. "But it is very important, I assure you."

She shook her head and turned away, muttering something. Corvus noticed that Daphne and Max were gone. "I sent them back to their rooms," his mother told him, helping him out of bed. He felt like his legs and limbs were made of led as he moved from the hospital wing. His mother helped him up the stairs.

"Where are we going?" he asked, winded.

"To a room on the seventh floor," she told him. "You can rest there. It's very comfortable and you won't be disturbed. You can't be anywhere near Harry when Fudge finds out what's happened tonight."

"Why?"

"I'll explain when we get to the room."

_What room? _He held back on asking anymore questions. He was too drowsy to press the matter. He just wanted to get to this supposed comfortable, private room where he's promised rest and peace.

They finally came to the seventh floor. They went left in the corridor to where a tapestry depicting the attempt of Barnabas the Barmy to teach trolls ballet. Corvus frowned when they came to stop in front of it. His mother however left go of him and began to pace for a short distance, walking back and forth three times, silent. Suddenly a door appeared opposite of the tapestry.

Corvus blinked, wondering if he was just so drowsy he hadn't noticed the door before. It _was_ dark throughout the castle. His mother opened the door for him.

Inside was a large, high ceiling bedroom. Across from the door were three full-length windows with heavy, dark curtains of black, red and violet – the Stirling colors. They were still pulled open, showing the clear night sky outside. A large, billowy king sized bed was in the center of the room. A dark armoire stood to the right of him and a dark oak desk with a water basin filled with steaming water and a stack of towels was to the left. It was one very impressive room.

"This is the Room of Requirement," his mother explained as she shut the door behind them. "I discovered it while I was in my fifth year. I had to avoid my Slytherin brethren that year. It was when we all found out about my mother. Suffice to say, I wasn't the target for much affection."

"Is it a hidden room?"

"Sort of. It transforms itself into whatever you need it to be at the moment. There are some limitations, like it cannot create food." She walked over to the windows and pulled the curtains shut. Black candles appeared floating above them, lit to give them light. "If you're hungry though, you can call for Coco or Dobby to fetch you something from the kitchens."

"Where are you going?"

"Sit down first." A dark leather armchair appeared beside him, as if it had been there all along. He took a seat. "Cornelius Fudge is fond of the pureblood community," she started. "In fact, he places a lot of importance on the purity of blood. There is a good chance that he will not want to act against Voldemort and the Death Eaters when he hears the news."

"But Cedric Diggory is dead."

She shrugged. "A lot of people are stupid when they are afraid. So until we see how Fudge reacts, we must distance ourselves from tonight's events and Harry."

"What? Why?"

"Because lines will be drawn, and I might have to play both sides a bit. As Madame Crafter I hold a lot of power and influence over the Ministry. But if Fudge decides he will not side with Dumbledore and I publicly do, I might be cut off from them. It's important to have access to the Ministry."

"So I can't tell anyone what happened to me?"

She stopped pacing. "That's the tricky part. People might already know you're involved, in some way at least. And of course you can give Fudge and the Ministry any statement you want… but you would have to reveal yourself as an Animagus."

He hadn't thought of that. It had been easy admitting that truth to his mother, and he could work around Dumbledore knowing the truth too. But all the wizards and witches in Britain knowing wasn't a comfortable situation. His alternative though was to keep a secret, a very big one. He wasn't a stranger to secrets, but never one as big as this… Corvus rubbed the temples of his forehead.

"I will confess this is a tad selfish on my part," she said. "If you maintain your distance, if you appear to have chosen no side, you won't make a target of yourself. Ascanius will not mark you as an enemy just yet."

"But… but you – "

"He'll know where my loyalties lie, but he doesn't know you. His hope is that you are more like him than me," she sighed. "And I have no qualms about playing with that hope if it means keeping you safe."

That didn't sound like the most sound of theories. He had no idea who his other uncle was. Ascanius Stirling was someone he'd learned about in books and from a fake Alastor Moody. People said he was deranged, but how could he honestly believe he'd be a Death Eater at heart? His father had died because of You-Know-Who, his mother had fled the country because of You-Know-Who…

Then again, he'd been brought to that house to meet him. Crouch said he'd been waiting for years to meet Corvus. And he hadn't been tied up or hurt in anyway. What did Ascanius want kidnapping him?

* * *

**A/N** Next chapter will include Malfoy and Slytherins in general. The Salesmen have a chat about the future. Hmmm and some awkward goodbyes


End file.
